Sonnets From The Portuguese XXXIX
By Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Because thou hast the power and ownst the grace
To look through and behind this mask of me,
(Against which, years have beat thus blanchingly,
With their rains,) and behold my souls true face,
The dim and weary witness of lifes race,
Because thou hast the faith and love to see,
Through that same souls distracting lethargy,
The patient angel waiting for a place
In the new Heavens, because nor sin nor woe,
Nor Gods infliction, nor deaths neighbourhood,
Nor all which others viewing, turn to go,
Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,
Nothing repels thee, . . . Dearest, teach me so
To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!