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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Grief

I TELL you, hopeless grief is passionless;
    That only men incredulous of despair,
    Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air
Beat upward to God's throne in loud access
Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness
    In souls as countries lieth silent-bare
    Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare
Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death—
    Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
    Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:
If it could weep, it could arise and go.

 
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About the poet
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 
By the same poet
Rosalind's Scroll
The Deserted Garden
Consolation
Sonnets from the Portuguese (i)
Sonnets from the Portuguese (ii)
Sonnets from the Portuguese (iii)
Sonnets from the Portuguese (iv)
Sonnets from the Portuguese (v)
A Musical Instrument
 
Related books
Elizabeth Barrett Browning at amazon.com


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