English poet. She was born 6 March 1806 in Durham, England, UK and died 29 June 1861 in Florence, Italy.
Her father forbade Elizabeth and her siblings from marrying. She and all of her siblings who married were disinherited.
She supported the abolition of slavery.
Her fathers sister Sarah is the subject of the painting "Pinkie" in the Huntington Museum.
Her father emigrated to England from Jamaica.
She was the oldest of twelve children.
She was the daughter of Edward Moulton Barrett and Mary Graham-Clarke.
She had one child, Robert Wiedemann Barrett Browning, born in 1849. He was called Penini and Pen for short.
[on love] What I do and what I dream include these, as the wine must,taste of its own grapes.
I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out.
I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you,Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing; Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.
No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books.
Our Euripides the human,With his droppings of warm tears,and his touchings of things common Till they rose to meet the spheres.
Better farPursue a frivolous trade by serious means,Than a sublime art frivolously.
Good aims not always make good books.
Quick-loving hearts . . . may quickly loathe.
And I breathe large at home. I drop my cloak,Unclasp my girdle, loose the band that tiesMy hair. . . now could I but unloose my soul!We are sepulchred alive in this close world,And want more room.
The picture of helpless indolence she calls herselfsublimely helpless and impotentI had done living I thoughtWas ever life so like death before? My face was so close against the tombstones, that there seemed no room for tears.
And wilt thou have me fashion into speechThe love I bear thee, finding words enough,And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough,Between our faces, to cast light on each? -I dropt it at thy feet. I cannot teachMy hand to hold my spirits so far offFrom myself--me--that I should bring thee proofIn words, of love hid in me out of reach. Nay, let the silence of my womanhoodCommend my woman-love to thy belief, -Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed,And rend the garment of my life, in brief,By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.
Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love.
I tell you hopeless grief is passionless,That only men incredulous of despair,Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight airBeat upward to God’s throne in loud accessOf shrieking and reproach. Full desertnessIn souls, as countries, lieth silent-bareUnder the blanching, vertical eye-glareOf the absolute heavens. Deep-hearted man, expressGrief for thy dead in silence like to death— Most like a monumental statue setIn everlasting watch and moveless woeTill itself crumble to the dust beneath. Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet;If it could weep, it could arise and go.
How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use?A hope, to sing by gladly? or a fineSad memory, with thy songs to interfuse?A shade, in which to sing—of palm or pine?A grave, on which to rest from singing? Choose.
The wisest word man reaches is the humblest he can speak.
And yet, because I love thee, I obtainFrom that same love this vindicating grace,To live on still in love, and yet in vain,Yes," I answered you last night;"No," this morning, sir, I say. Colours seen by candlelightWill not look the same by day.
The heart doth recognise thee,Alone, alone! The heart doth smell thee sweet,Doth view thee fair, doth judge thee most complete,—-Though seeing now those changes that disguise thee.
You have touched me more profoundly than I thought even you could have touched me - my heart was full when you came here today. Henceforward I am yours for everything.
His answer was - not the common gallantries which come so easily to the lips of me - but simply that he loved me - he met argument with fact. He told me - that with himself also, the early freshness of youth had gone by, & that throughout it he had not been able to love any woman - that he loved now for the first time & the last.
With my lost saints - I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life! - and if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
True knowledge comes only through suffering.
Earth changes but thy soul and God stand sure.
Just for a handful of silver he left us Just for a ribbon to stick in his coat.
Good to forgive Best to forget.
I give the fight up let there be an end A privacy an obscure nook for me I want to be forgotten even by God.
And each man stands with his face in the light of his own drawn sword. Ready to do what a hero can.
Until they are of the age to use the brain.
Light tomorrow with today!,Light tomorrow with today.
Light tomorrow with today.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.
Who so loves believes the impossible.
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
For tis not in mere death that men die most.
An ignorance of means may minister to greatness, but an ignorance of aims make it impossible to be great at all.
If you desire faith, then you have faith enough. .
