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Poem by Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Sonnets from the Portuguese. 8. What can I give thee back, O liberal


What can I give thee back, O liberal
And princely giver, who hast brought the gold
And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,
And laid them on the outside of the-wall
For such as I to take or leave withal,
In unexpected largesse? am I cold,
Ungrateful, that for these most manifold
High gifts, I render nothing back at all?
Not so; not cold,—but very poor instead.
Ask God who knows. For frequent tears have run
The colors from my life, and left so dead
And pale a stuff, it were not fitly done
To give the same as pillow to thy head.
Go farther! let it serve to trample on.



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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