. The poetical works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning ... silence she kept smiling—Bat the tears ran over lightly from her eyes, and tenderly ; • Dost thou, Bertram, truly love me ? Is no woman far above meFound more worthy of thy poet-heart than such a one as I? Said he—• I would dream so ever, like the flowing of that river. Flowing ever in a shadow greenly onward to the sea ; So. thou vision of all sweetness—princely to a full completeness,— Would my heart and life flow onward—deathward—through this dream ot Ihek^ Ever, evermore the while in slow silence she kept smiling. While the silver tear
. The poetical works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning ... silence she kept smiling—Bat the tears ran over lightly from her eyes, and tenderly ; • Dost thou, Bertram, truly love me ? Is no woman far above meFound more worthy of thy poet-heart than such a one as I? Said he—• I would dream so ever, like the flowing of that river. Flowing ever in a shadow greenly onward to the sea ; So. thou vision of all sweetness—princely to a full completeness,— Would my heart and life flow onward—deathward—through this dream ot Ihek^ Ever, evermore the while in slow silence she kept smiling. While the silver tears ran faster down the blushing of her cheeks ; I Then with both her hands enfolding both of his, she softly told him, * Bertram, if I say I love thee, . . tis the vision only speaks. Softened, quickened to adore her, on his knee he fell before her—And she whispered low in triumph— It shall be as I have sworn 1Very rich he is in virtues,—very noble—noble, certes ;And I shall not blush in knowing that men call him lowly bom I. LORD WALTERS WIFE. But why do you go ? said the lady, while both sate under the vew ma her eyes were alive ui their depth, as the kraken beneath the sea-blu«. Because 1 fear you, he answered ; because you are far too fairuid able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your gold-colored hair. Oh, that. she said is no reason ! Such knots are quickly undone,tud too much beauty, I reckon, is nothing but too much sun. Yet, farewell so, he answered ;— the sun-strokes fatal at times. value your husband. Lord Walter, whose gallop rings still from the limes. Oh. that, she said. is no reason. You smell a rose through a fence : r two should smell it, what matter ? who grumbles, and wheres the pretence? But I, he replied, have promised another, when love was free, 0 love her alone, alone, who alone and afar loves me. Why, that, she said, is no reason. Loves always free, I am told. /ill you vow to be safe from the headache on Tuesday, and think it w
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1870
