A Short Love Poem
Sonnet From The Portuguese
Poet: Elizabeth Barrett Browning
First time he kissed me, he but only kiss'd
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white,
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its "Oh, list,"
When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst
I could not wear here, plainer to my sight,
Than that first kiss. The second pass'd in height
The first, and sought the forehead, and half miss'd,
Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!
That was the chrism of love which love's own crown,
With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.
The third upon my lips was folded down
In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,
I have been proud and said: "My Love, my own!"
More Words and Verses by Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
Who so loves believes the impossible.
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -
and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
You were made perfectly to be loved -
and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.
If thou must love me,
let it be for naught except for love's sake only.