Work

WHAT are we set on earth for ? Say, to toil;
Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines
For all the heat o' the day, till it declines,
And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil.
God did anoint thee with his odorous oil,
To wrestle, not to reign; and He assigns
All thy tears over, like pure crystallines,
For younger fellow-workers of the soil
To wear for amulets. So others shall
Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand
From thy hand and thy heart and thy brave cheer,
And God's grace fructify through thee to
The least flower with a brimming cup may stand,
And share its dew-drop with another near.

More poems by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

An Apprehension

IF all the gentlest-hearted friends I know / Concentred in one heart their gentleness,

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

XXVII - My own Beloved, who hast lifted me

My own Beloved, who hast lifted me / From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown,

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The Prisoner

I count the dismal time by months and years / Since last I felt the green sward under foot,

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

XXX - I see thine image through my tears to-night

I see thine image through my tears to-night, / And yet to-day I saw thee smiling. How

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

All poems by Elizabeth Barrett Browning →