Explore "Sonnets from the Portuguese" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange / And be all to me? Shall I never miss / Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss / That comes to each in turn, nor count it strange, / When I look up, to drop on a new range / Of walls and floors, another home than this?
Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is / Filled by dead eyes too tender to know change / That's hardest. If to conquer love, has tried, / To conquer grief, tries more, as all things prove, / For grief indeed is love and grief beside.