English Poetry II: From Collins to Fitzgerald.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
598. Sonnets from the Portuguese
XXIS
That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated
Should seem “a cuckoo-song,” as thou dost treat it,
Remember, never to the hill or plain,
Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain
Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed.
Belovèd, I, amid the darkness greeted
By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubt’s pain
Cry, “Speak once more—thou lovest!” Who can fear
Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll,
Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year?
The silver iterance!—only minding, Dear,
To love me also in silence with thy soul.