619. Sonnets from the Portuguese XLII

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806—1861)

  “MY future will not copy fair my past”—

  I wrote that once; and thinking at my side

  My ministering life-angel justified

  The word by his appealing look upcast

  To the white throne of God, I turned at last,

  And there, instead, saw thee, not unallied

  To angels in thy soul! Then I, long tried

  By natural ills, received the comfort fast,

  While budding, at thy sight, my pilgrim’s staff

  Gave out green leaves with morning dews impearled.

  I seek no copy now of life’s first half:

  Leave here the pages with long musing curled,

  And write me new my future’s epigraph,

  New angel mine, unhoped for in the world!