For poets (bear the word) Half-poets even, are still whole democrats. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
God Himself is the best Poet, And the Real is His song. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
The critics could never mortify me out of heart - because I love poetry for its own sake, - and, tho' with… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
There's nothing great Nor small, has said a poet of our day, Whose voice will ring beyond the curfew of eve And… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
Sing, seraph with the glory! heaven is high. Sing, poet with the sorrow! earth is low. The universe's inward voices cry "Amen"… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
My love for him was so exquisitely pure that if we all were capable of giving and receiving such a beautiful gift… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
O brave poets, keep back nothing; Nor mix falsehood with the whole! Look up Godward! speak the truth in Worthy song from… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
Yet half the beast is the great god Pan, To laugh, as he sits by the river, Making a poet out of… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
Men of science, osteologists And surgeons, beat some poets, in respect For nature,-count nought common or unclean, Spend raptures upon perfect specimens… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
We all have known good critics, who have stamped out poet's hopes; Good statesmen, who pulled ruin on the state; Good patriots,… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, 'Let no one be called happy till his death;' to which I would add, 'Let no… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
“The face of all the world is changed, I think, Since first I heard the footsteps of they soul Move still, oh, still, beside… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
With stammering lips and insufficient sound I strive and struggle to deliver right the music of my nature. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
The charm, one might say the genius, of memory is that it is choosy, chancy and temperamental. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks, held out in the smoke, like stars by day. — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
They say that God lives very high! But if you look above the pines You cannot see our God. And why? And if you dig down in the mines You never see Him in the gold, Though from Him all that's glory shines. God is so good, He wears a fold Of heaven and earth across His face - Like… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share
Men of science, osteologists And surgeons, beat some poets, in respect For nature,-count nought common or unclean, Spend raptures upon perfect specimens Of indurated… — Elizabeth Barrett Browning Copy Share Image
