Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Ýëèçàáåò Áàððåòò Áðàóíèíã)

Adequacy

NOW, by the verdure on thy thousand hills,
Beloved England, doth the earth appear
Quite good enough for men to overbear
The will of God in, with rebellious wills !
We cannot say the morning-sun fulfils
Ingloriously its course, nor that the clear
Strong stars without significance insphere
Our habitation: we, meantime, our ills
Heap up against this good and lift a cry
Against this work-day world, this ill-spread feast,
As if ourselves were better certainly
Than what we come to. Maker and High Priest,
I ask thee not my joys to multiply,--
Only to make me worthier of the least. 

1. Sonnet 15. Accuse Me Not, Beseech Thee, That I Wear
2. Sonnet 16. And Yet, Because Thou
3. Sonnet 32. The First Time
4. Grief
5. Sonnet 17. My Poet, Thou Canst Touch

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