Elizabeth Barrett Browning - Portuguese XXVIII lyrics
[Elizabeth Barrett Browning - Portuguese XXVIII lyrics]
My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
And yet they seem alive and quivering
Against my tremulous hands which
Loose the string
And let them drop down on my knee to-night
This said
- he wished to have me in his sight
Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring
To come and touch my hand a simple thing
Yet I wept for it! -this, the paper's light
Said, Dear
I love thee and I sank and quailed
As if God's future thundered on my past
This said
I am thine -and so it's ink has paled
With lying at my heart that beat too fast
And this o Love, thy words have ill availed
If, what this said, I dared repeat at last!
And yet they seem alive and quivering
Against my tremulous hands which
Loose the string
And let them drop down on my knee to-night
This said
- he wished to have me in his sight
Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring
To come and touch my hand a simple thing
Yet I wept for it! -this, the paper's light
Said, Dear
I love thee and I sank and quailed
As if God's future thundered on my past
This said
I am thine -and so it's ink has paled
With lying at my heart that beat too fast
And this o Love, thy words have ill availed
If, what this said, I dared repeat at last!