Sonnet 12 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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Indeed this very love which is my boast,
And which, when rising up from breast to brow,
Doth crown me with a ruby large enow
To draw men’s eyes and prove the inner cost,—
This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost,
I should not love withal, unless that thou
Hadst set me an example, shown me how,
When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed,
And love called love. And thus, I cannot speak
Of love even, as a good thing of my own:
Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak,
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,—
And that I love (O soul, we must be meek!)
Is by thee only, whom I love alone.

That concludes Sonnet 12 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Did you like Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 12? Then, rate it below. And don’t forget to like, tweet or share Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 12 by using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below.

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