Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart !
Unlike our uses and our destinies.
Our ministering two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art
A guest for queens to social pageantries,
With gages from a hundred brighter eyes
Than tears even can make mine, to play thy part
Of chief musician. What hast thou to do
With looking from the lattice-lights at me,
A poor, tired, wandering singer, singing through
The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree ?
The chrism is on thine head,–on mine, the dew,–
And Death must dig the level where these agree.
(Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
More Poetry from Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems based on Topics: Art, Singing, Musicians, Guest- Only a Curl. (Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems)
- The Sweetness Of England (Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems)
- The Romaunt of Margret (excerpts) (Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems)
- The North And The South (Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems)
- To (Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems)
- The Lady's Yes. (Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Art Poems, Singing Poems, Guest Poems, Musicians PoemsBased on Keywords: brighter, surprise, social, play, level, hundred, tree, angels, passing, dew, hast