602. Sonnets from the Portuguese XXV

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806—1861)

  A HEAVY heart, Belovèd, have I borne

  From year to year until I saw thy face,

  And sorrow after sorrow took the place

  Of all those natural joys as lightly worn

  As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn

  By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace

  Were changed to long despairs, till God’s own grace

  Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn

  My heavy heart. Then thou didst bid me bring

  And let it drop adown thy calmly great

  Deep being! Fast it sinketh, as a thing

  Which its own nature doth precipitate,

  While thine doth close above it, mediating

  Betwixt the stars and the unaccomplished fate.