Poem by Elizabeth Barrett-Browning

Sonnets from the Portuguese. 33. Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear

Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear
The name I used to run at, when a child,
From innocent play, and leave the cowslips plied,
To glance up in some face that proved me dear
With the look of its eyes.  I miss the clear
Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled
Into the music of Heaven’s undefiled,
Call me no longer.  Silence on the bier,
While I call God—call God!—so let thy mouth
Be heir to those who are now exanimate.
Gather the north flowers to complete the south,
And catch the early love up in the late.
Yes, call me by that name,—and I, in truth,
With the same heart, will answer and not wait.

1. The Holy Night
2. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 11. And therefore if to love can be desert
3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 40. Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!
4. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 41. I thank all who have loved me in their hearts
5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 25. A heavy heart, Belovëd, have I borne

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