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Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Элизабет Барретт Браунинг)


Sonnets from the Portuguese. 4. Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor


Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor,
Most gracious singer of high poems! where
The dancers will break footing, from the care
Of watching up thy pregnant lips for more.
And dost thou lift this house's latch too poor
For hand of thine? and canst thou think and bear
To let thy music drop here unaware
In folds of golden fulness at my door?
Look up and see the casement broken in,
The bats and owlets builders in the roof!
My cricket chirps against thy mandolin.
Hush, call no echo up in further proof
Of desolation! there 's a voice within
That weeps... as thou must sing... alone, aloof.



Elizabeth Barrett Browning's other poems:
  1. Bianca among the Nightingales
  2. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 33. Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear
  3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 35. If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
  4. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 18. I never gave a lock of hair away
  5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 27. My own Belovëd, who hast lifted me


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