A Year's Spinning
He listened at the porch that day, To hear the wheel go on, and on; And then it stopped, ran back away, While through the door he brought the sun: But now my spinning is all done. He sat beside me, with an oath That love ne'er ended, once begun; I smiled—believing for us both, What was the truth for only one: And now my spinning is all done. My mother cursed me that I heard A young man's wooing as I spun: Thanks, cruel mother, for that word-- For I have, since, a harder known! And now my spinning is all done. I thought—O God!—my first-born's cry Both voices to mine ear would drown: I listened in mine agony-- It was the silence made me groan! And now my spinning is all done. Bury me 'twixt my mother's grave, (Who cursed me on her death-bed lone) And my dead baby's (God it save!) Who, not to bless me, would not moan. And now my spinning is all done. A stone upon my heart and head, But no name written on the stone! Sweet neighbours, whisper low instead, "This sinner was a loving one-- And now her spinning is all done." And let the door ajar remain, In case he should pass by anon; And leave the wheel out very plain,-- That HE, when passing in the sun, May see the spinning is all done. http://allpoetry.com/poem/8438629-A_Years_Spinning-by-Elizabeth_Barrett_Browning |
Change Upon Change
Five months ago the stream did flow, The lilies bloomed within the sedge, And we were lingering to and fro, Where none will track thee in this snow, Along the stream, beside the hedge. Ah, Sweet, be free to love and go! For if I do not hear thy foot, The frozen river is as mute, The flowers have dried down to the root: And why, since these be changed since May, Shouldst thou change less than they. And slow, slow as the winter snow The tears have drifted to mine eyes; And my poor cheeks, five months ago Set blushing at thy praises so,Put paleness on for a disguise. Ah, Sweet, be free to praise and go! For if my face is turned too pale, It was thine oath that first did fail, -- It was thy love proved false and frail, -- And why, since these be changed enow, Should I change less than thou. http://allpoetry.com/poem/8438613-Change_Upon_Change-by-Elizabeth_Barrett_Browning |
Pain In Pleasure
A THOUGHT ay like a flower upon mine heart, And drew around it other thoughts like bees For multitude and thirst of sweetnesses; Whereat rejoicing, I desired the art Of the Greek whistler, who to wharf and mart Could lure those insect swarms from orange-trees That I might hive with me such thoughts and please My soul so, always. foolish counterpart Of a weak man's vain wishes ! While I spoke, The thought I called a flower grew nettle-rough The thoughts, called bees, stung me to festering: Oh, entertain (cried Reason as she woke) Your best and gladdest thoughts but long enough, And they will all prove sad enough to sting ! http://allpoetry.com/poem/8438599-Pain_In_Pleasure-by-Elizabeth_Barrett_Browning |