The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 2/13/09

[BlueIris]

—from Sonnets from the Portugese

I

I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware,
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair,
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, ...
'Guess now who holds thee?'—'Death,' I said. But there,
The silver answer rang . . . 'Not Death, but Love.'

—Elizabeth Barret Browning

[CaliforniaPeggy]

1. My dear BlueIris...

Oh, this is lovely, and so very appropriate!

I've been struck by love too, and it can be surprising...

When you least expect it...

Thank you!

:hug:

[BlueIris]

3. In so many ways, it is like death.

A transformation.

[Tuesday Afternoon]

2. "...how a mystic Shape did move..."

and also:

"...the dear and wished for years,..."


Elizabeth.
for love.
can't wait to see tomorrow's poem for Valentine Day. Knowing you... :D

[BlueIris]

4. Tomorrow's poem is excellent (and thoroughly G-rated, I will have you know).

:P

[Chorophyll]

5. Ah. Wonderful.

Thank you. :)

[BlueIris]

6. I recently re-discovered Browning.

She's so much better than I gave her credit for during the college years...