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Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Элизабет Барретт Браунинг)


Sonnet 37. Pardon, Oh, Pardon, That My Soul Should Make


Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make,
Of all that strong divineness which I know
For thine and thee, an image only so
Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.
It is that distant years which did not take
Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,
Have forced my swimming brain to undergo
Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake
Thy purity of likeness and distort
Thy worthiest love to a worthless counterfeit:
As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port,
His guardian sea-god to commemorate,
Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort
And vibrant tail, within the temple-gate. 



Elizabeth Barrett Browning's other poems:
  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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