Saturday, October 17, 2020

Sonnets from the Portuguese 9

Can it be right to give what I can give?  
To let thee sit beneath the fall of tears  
As salt as mine, and hear the sighing years  
Re-sighing on my lips renunciative 
Through those infrequent smiles which fail to live
For all thy adjurations? O my fears,  
That this can scarce be right!We are not peers, 
 So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve, 
 That givers of such gifts as mine are, must  
Be counted with the ungenerous. Out, alas! 
 I will not soil thy purple with my dust, 
 Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice-glass, 
Nor give thee any love --- which were unjust.  
Belovèd, I love only thee! let it pass.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning 

No comments:

Post a Comment