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Barrett Browning > Poems > Sonnets
from the Portuguese >|
III. "Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart..."
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
|Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart!|
Unlike our uses and our destinies.
Our ministering two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art
A guest for queens to social pageantries,
With gages from a hundred brighter eyes
Than tears even can make mine, to play thy part
Of chief musician. What hast thou to do
With looking from the lattice-lights at me,
A poor, tired, wandering singer, singing through
The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree?
The chrism is on thine head,---on mine, the dew,---
And Death must dig the level where these agree.
Page last updated: 15 October 1998|
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