Sonnet XXIII



Is it indeed so ? If I lay here dead,
Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine ?
And would the sun for thee more coldly shine
Because of grave-damps falling round my head ?
I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read
Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine--
But . . . so much to thee ? Can I pour thy wine
While my hands tremble ? Then my soul, instead
Of dreams of death, resumes life's lower range.
Then, love me, Love ! look on me--breathe on me !
As brighter ladies do not count it strange,
For love, to give up acres and degree,
I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange
My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee !

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on April 04, 2023

36 sec read
86

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABBAABBACDCDCD
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 621
Words 121
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 14

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 · 1806 · Kelloe
 · 1861 · Florence

Elizabeth Barrett Browning was one of the most prominent English poets of the Victorian era. more…

All Elizabeth Barrett Browning poems | Elizabeth Barrett Browning Books

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