All are not taken; there are left behind
Living Belovèds, tender looks to bring
And make the daylight still a happy thing,
And tender voices, to make soft the wind:
But if it were not so-if I could find
No love in all this world for comforting,
Nor any path but hollowly did ring
Where 'dust to dust' the love from life disjoin'd;
And if, before those sepulchres unmoving
I stood alone (as some forsaken lamb
Goes bleating up the moors in weary dearth)
Crying 'Where are ye, O my loved and loving?'-
I know a voice would sound, 'Daughter, I Am.
Can I suffice for Heaven and not for earth?'
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A Child Asleep
A Dead Rose
A Man's Requirements
Musical Instrument
A Sea-Side Walk
A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed
Adequacy
An Apprehension
Change Upon Change
Cheerfulness Taught By Reason
Comfort
Consolation
De Profundis
Discontent
Exaggeration
Futurity
Grief
How Do I Love Thee?
Insufficiency
Irreparableness
Lord Walter's Wife
Minstrelsy
Pain In Pleasure
Past And Future
Patience Taught By Nature
Perplexed Music
Substitution
Tears
The Autumn
The Best Thing In The World
The Deserted Garden
The House Of Clouds
The Lady's Yes
The Landing of Pilgrim Fathers
The Look
The Meaning Of The Look
The Poet And The Bird
The Prisoner
The Seraph and Poet
The Soul's Expression
The Two Sayings
The Weakest Thing
To Flush, My Dog
Work
Work And Contemplation
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Elizabeth Barrett Browning Consolation - Poem Lyrics - Elizabeth Barrett Browning - Consolation

