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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Sonnets from the Portuguese

ii

UNLIKE are we, unlike, O princely Heart!
    Unlike our uses and our destinies.
    Our ministering two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art
    A guest for queens to social pageantries,
    With gages from a hundred brighter eyes
Than tears even can make mine, to play thy part
Of chief musician. What hast thou to do
    With looking from the lattice-lights at me—
A poor, tired, wandering singer, singing through
    The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree?
The chrism is on thine head—on mine the dew—
    And Death must dig the level where these agree.

 
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About the poet
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
 
By the same poet
Rosalind's Scroll
The Deserted Garden
Consolation
Grief
Sonnets from the Portuguese (i)
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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