Who can fear too many stars

Completely bound to either the computer or telephone for the whole day, today - I haven't managed to venture further than our small front garden!

But, to lift the spirits, here is today's entry from the pictured 2003 compilation - Elizabeth Barret Browning at her very, very best ...

... and, on top of that, it's Friday tomorrow - and the Pentlands do beckon :-)


Sonnets from the Portuguese - XXI

Say over again, and yet once over again,
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?
Say thou dost love me, love me, love me—toll
The silver iterance!—only minding, Dear,
To love me also in silence with thy soul.

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Elizabeth Barret Browning (1806 - 1861)

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