Sonnets from the Portuguese-原文阅读、下载及全文检索

Sonnets from the Portuguese
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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I. I thought once how Theocritus had sung	II. But only three in all God's universe
III. Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart!	IV. Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor
V. I lift my heavy heart up solemnly	VI. Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
VII. The face of all the world is changed, I think	VIII. What can I give thee back, O liberal
IX. Can it be right to give what I can give?	X. Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
XI. And therefore if to love can be desert	XII. Indeed this very love which is my boast
XIII. And wilt thou have me fashion into speech	XIV. If thou must love me, let it be for nought
XV. Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear	XVI. And yet, because thou overcomest so
XVII. My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes	XVIII. I never gave a lock of hair away
XIX. The soul's Rialto hath its merchandize	XX. Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
XXI. Say over again, and yet once over again	XXII. When our two souls stand up erect and strong
XXIII. Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead	XXIV. Let the world's sharpness like a clasping knife
XXV. A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne	XXVI. I lived with visions for my company
XXVII. My own Beloved, who hast lifted me	XXVIII. My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
XXIX. I think of thee!--my thoughts do twine and bud	XXX. I see thine image through my tears to-night
XXXI. Thou comest! all is said without a word	XXXII. The first time that the sun rose on thine oath
XXXIII. Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear	XXXIV. With the same heart, I said, I'll answer thee
XXXV. If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange	XXXVI. When we met first and loved, I did not build
XXXVII. Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make	XXXVIII. First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
XXXIX. Because thou hast the power and own'st the grace	XL. Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!
XLI. I thank all who have loved me in their hearts	XLII. My future will not copy fair my past
XLIII. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways	XLIV. Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers