Poem by Elizabeth Barrett-Browning

Comfort

SPEAK low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet
From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low
Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so
Who art not missed by any that entreat.
Speak to mo as to Mary at thy feet !
And if no precious gums my hands bestow,
Let my tears drop like amber while I go
In reach of thy divinest voice complete
In humanest affection -- thus, in sooth,
To lose the sense of losing. As a child,
Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore
Is sung to in its stead by mother's mouth
Till, sinking on her breast, love-reconciled,
He sleeps the faster that he wept before. 

1. The Holy Night
2. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 41. I thank all who have loved me in their hearts
3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 25. A heavy heart, Belovëd, have I borne
4. The House of Clouds
5. Rosalind's Scroll

Lewis Morris Comfort ("THO' love be bought and honour sold")

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