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Poem by Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Sonnets from the Portuguese. 6. Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand


Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life, I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore—
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double. What I do
And what I dream include thee, as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes the tears of two. 



Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Elizabeth Barrett-Browning's other poems:
  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. 25. A heavy heart, Belovëd, have I borne
  5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 41. I thank all who have loved me in their hearts


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