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Poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Sonnets from the Portuguese. 36. When we met first and loved, I did not build


When we met first and loved, I did not build
Upon the event with marble. Could it mean
To last, a love set pendulous between
Sorrow and sorrow? Nay, I rather thrilled,
Distrusting every light that seemed to gild
The onward path, and feared to overlean
A finger even. And, though I have grown serene
And strong since then, I think that God has willed
A still renewable fear... O love, O troth...
Lest these enclasped hands should never hold,
This mutual kiss drop down between us both
As an unowned thing, once the lips being cold.
And Love, be false! if he, to keep one oath,
Must lose one joy, by his life's star foretold. 



Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Elizabeth Barrett Browning's other poems:
  1. The Sweetness of England
  2. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 22. When our two souls stand up erect and strong
  3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 30. I see thine image through my tears to-night
  4. Aurora Leigh. Ninth Book
  5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 18. I never gave a lock of hair away


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