Explore "Sonnets from the Portuguese" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed / The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; / And ever since, it grew more clean and white.
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its "O, list," / When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst / I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, / Than that first kiss. The second passed in height / The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed, / Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!