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IX
Elizabeth Barrett Browning 1806 (Kelloe) – 1861 (Florence)
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.
Beloved, I only love thee ! let it pass.
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Citation
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"IX" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 15 Jan. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/10238/ix>.
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