Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–1861)

(From Sonnets from the Portuguese)

AND wilt thou have me fashion into speech

The love I bear thee, finding words enough,

And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough

Between our faces, to cast light on each?

I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach

My hand to hold thy spirit so far off

From myself—me—that I should bring thee proof,

In words, of love hid in me out of reach.

Nay, let the silence of my womanhood

Commend my woman-love to thy belief,—

Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed,

And rend the garment of my life, in brief,

By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,

Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.