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Poem by Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Sonnets from the Portuguese. 11. And therefore if to love can be desert


And therefore if to love can be desert,
I am not all unworthy.  Cheeks as pale
As these you see, and trembling knees that fail
To bear the burden of a heavy heart,—
This weary minstrel-life that once was girt
To climb Aornus, and can scarce avail
To pipe now ’gainst the valley nightingale
A melancholy music,—why advert
To these things?  O Belovëd, it is plain
I am not of thy worth nor for thy place!
And yet, because I love thee, I obtain
From that same love this vindicating grace
To live on still in love, and yet in vain,—
To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face.



Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Elizabeth Barrett-Browning's other poems:
  1. Bianca among the Nightingales
  2. Substitution
  3. Lord Walter's Wife
  4. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 16. And yet, because thou overcomest so
  5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 35. If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange


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