Explore "Sonnets from the Portuguese" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
My future will not copy fair my past- / I wrote that once; and thinking at my side / My ministering life-angel justified / The word by his appealing look upcast / To the white throne of God, I turned at last, / And there, instead, saw thee, not unallied / To angels in thy soul! Then I, long tried / By natural ills, received the comfort fast, / While budding, at thy sight, my pilgrim's staff / Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled.
I seek no copy now of life's first half: / Leave here the pages with long musing curled, / And write me new my future's epigraph, / New angel mine, unhoped for in the world!