And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
The love I bear thee, finding words enough,
And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough,
Between our faces, to cast light on each?
I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach
My hand to hold my spirits so far off
From myself, me, that I should bring thee proof
In words, of love hid in me out of reach.
Nay, let the silence of my womanhood
Commend my woman-love to thy belief,
Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed,
And rend the garment of my life, in brief,
By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,
Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.
Sonnets From The Portuguese Xiii
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Poem topics: grief, heart, life, light, silence, woman, speech, bring, touch, fashion, reach, stand, belief, teach, hold, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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