Elizabeth Barrett Browning - From Sonnets from the Portuguese XXIV lyrics
[Elizabeth Barrett Browning - From Sonnets from the Portuguese XXIV lyrics]
Let the world’s sharpness, like
A clasping knife
Shut in upon it'self and do no harm
In this close hand of Love
Now soft and warm
And let us hear no sound of human strife
After the click of the shutting life to life
I lean upon thee, Dear, without alarm
And feel as safe as guarded by a charm
Against the stab of worldlings, who if rife
Are weak to injure very-whitely still
The lilies of our lives may reassure
Their blossoms from their roots, accessible
Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer
Growing straight, out of man’s reach
On the hill
God only, who made us rich, can make us poor
A clasping knife
Shut in upon it'self and do no harm
In this close hand of Love
Now soft and warm
And let us hear no sound of human strife
After the click of the shutting life to life
I lean upon thee, Dear, without alarm
And feel as safe as guarded by a charm
Against the stab of worldlings, who if rife
Are weak to injure very-whitely still
The lilies of our lives may reassure
Their blossoms from their roots, accessible
Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer
Growing straight, out of man’s reach
On the hill
God only, who made us rich, can make us poor