Sonnet 11 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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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 Beloved, 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.

That concludes Sonnet 11 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Did you enjoy Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 11? Then, rate it below. And don’t forget to like, tweet or share Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 11 by using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.

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