XXI
Say ain, a once ain,
That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated
Should seem a cuckoo-song, as thou dost treat it,
Remember, o the hill or plain,
Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain
es the fresh Spring in all her green pleted.
Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted
By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubts pain
Cry, Speak once more--thou lovest ! Who fear
Too many stars, though ea heaven shall roll,
Too many flowers, though each shall the year ?
Say thou dost love me, love me, love me--toll
The silver iterance !--only minding, Dear,
To love me also in sileh thy soul.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
XXII
When our two souls stand up ered strong,
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,
Until the lengthening wings break into fire
At either curved point,--what bitter wrong
the earth do to us, that we should not long
Be here tented ? Think. In mounting higher,
The angels would press on us and aspire
To drop some golden orb of perfect so……(内容加载失败!)
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