I Poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I

Rating: 2.9


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.'

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Geeta Radhakrishna Menon 27 April 2020

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.'.....10

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Sylvaonyema Uba 03 May 2018

Good use of the Italian rhyme scheme pattern of abba, abba. Good concept. SYLVA-ONYEMA

0 0 Reply
Brian Jani 02 May 2014

Nice poem I like it very much

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