Elizabeth Barrett Browning 177 Elizabeth Barrett Browning 178 Elizabeth Barrett Browning 179 Elizabeth Barrett Browning 180 CORN not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned, Mindless of its just honours; with this key Shakespeare unlocked his heart; the melody Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound; A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound; With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief; The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle-leaf Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned His visionary brow; a glowworm lamp, It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faery-land The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. ENGLISH SONNETS. EASTER MORNING. OST glorious Lord of life! that, on this day, This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin; Being with thy dear blood clean washed from sin, And that thy love we weighing worthily, May likewise love Thee for the same again; So let us love, dear Love, like as we ought; |