Mrs. Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–1861)

(From Sonnets from the Portuguese)

AND therefore, if to love can be desert,

I am not all unworthy. Cheeks as pale

As these you see, and trembling knees that fail

To bear the burden of a heavy heart,

This weary minstrel-life that once was girt

To climb Aornus, and can scarce avail

To pipe now ’gainst the woodland nightingale

A melancholy music?—why advert

To these things? O beloved, it is plain

I am not of thy worth nor for thy place;

And yet because I love thee, I obtain

From that same love this vindicating grace,

To live on still in love and yet in vain;

To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face.