Try an author, a thought, or a phrase in “quotes”.↑ ↓ Navigate · Esc Close

0 words found

Explore all results ↗
EBElizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Life dates: 1806 AD — 1861 AD

English poet whose writing includes love sonnets, political poems and Aurora Leigh, a long verse narrative concerned with a woman telling her own story.

▷ Play this voiceSearch these words ↗Place in time ↗timelifedeathknowledgefaithjusticelovemind

Life and writing

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–1861) was an English poet. Her collected Poems appeared in 1844, and the 1850 selection included Sonnets from the Portuguese. She married Robert Browning in 1846 and subsequently lived in Italy.

Her work extends beyond love poetry. Casa Guidi Windows (1851) reflects on political events in Italy, and Poems Before Congress appeared in 1860. Aurora Leigh was published in 1856; the linked reading edition carries a London title page dated 1857.

Aurora Leigh opens with a narrator choosing to write her own story, then recalls childhood and family relationships. Read an extracted line alongside its speaker and surrounding passage: a verse narrative does not make every sentence a direct statement of the poet’s own views.

Reading this voice

The selected passages come from different works, including Aurora Leigh and A Vision of Poets; the linked book contains Aurora Leigh, not all the poems represented here. Historical anthology wording remains intact and can differ from the linked edition. The checked profile uses 1806–1861; the anthology records 1809–1861. Its existing approximate 1835 placement is a midpoint based on those historical anthology dates, not a composition date. That source-derived timeline has not been silently recalculated.

Subjects to explore

Words to begin with

Quotations and sayings

08c. 1833 AD
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.
↗
10c. 1833 AD
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.
↗
20c. 1833 AD
I thought once how Theocritus had sungOf the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,Who each one in a gracious hand appearsTo bear a gift for mortals, old or young;And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,Those of my own life, who by turns had flungA shadow across me. Straightaway I was 'ware,So weeping, how a mystic Shape did moveBehind me, and drew me backward by the hair;And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,--Guess now who holds thee?--Death, I said, But, there,The silver answer rang,--Not Death, but Love.
↗