Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Barrett was in her late 30's and somewhat sickly when she began corresponding with Mr. Robert Browning.  For some time, they admired each other from afar through their mutual interest in writing and poetry, and their thoughts did "twine and bud" about each other "as wild vines about a tree." (Sonnet XXIX)  Each found in the other his soul's mate.  When they finally met in person, they were deeply in love, but Elizabeth thought herself unworthy of Robert's place, his mind and his love because of her age and physical infirmities.  This led her to initially brush aside his overtures.  He remained constant in his love despite her objections. 

Ms. Browning's Sonnets From the Portuguese are among my all-time favorite poems.  Robert's pet name for Elizabeth was "my little Portuguese" because of her dark coloring.  These poems were her expression of love for him during their courtship and were published anonymously under this title so as to disguise their origin from the public. 

Although I cannot find confirmation for the following assumption, it seems to me that the following poem, A Denial, was likely written to Robert in their early days together when he was attempting to persuade Elizabeth that he truly loved her but she still found it incredulous. 

A Denial

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

We have met late---it is too late to meet,

O friend, not more than friend!

Death's forecome shroud is tangled round my feet,

And if I step or stir, I touch the end.

In this last jeopardy

Can I approach thee, I, who cannot move?

How shall I answer thy request for love?

Look in my face and see.

I love thee not, I dare not love thee! go

In silence; drop my hand.

If thou seek roses, seek them where they blow

In garden-alleys, not in desert-sand.

Can life and death agree,

That thou shouldst stoop thy song to my complaint?

I cannot love thee. If the word is faint,

Look in my face and see.

I might have loved thee in some former days.

Oh, then, my spirits had leapt

As now they sink, at hearing thy love-praise!

Before these faded cheeks were overwept,

Had this been asked of me,

To love thee with my whole strong heart and head,---

I should have said still . . . yes, but smiled and said,

"Look in my face and see!"

But now . . . God sees me, God, who took my heart

And drowned it in life's surge.

In all your wide warm earth I have no part---

A light song o'ercomes me like a dirge.

Could Love's great harmony

The saints keep step to when their bonds are loose,

Not weigh me down? am I a wife to choose?

Look in my face and see---

While I behold, as plain as one who dreams,

Some woman of full worth,

Whose voice, as cadenced as a silver stream's,

Shall prove the fountain-soul which sends it forth;

One younger, more thought-free

And fair and gay, than I, thou must forget,

With brighter eyes than these . . . which are not wet,

Look in my face and see!

So farewell thou, whom I have known too late

To let thee come so near.

 Be counted happy while men call thee great,

And one belovèd woman feels thee dear!---

Not I!---that cannot be.

I am lost, I am changed,---I must go farther, where

The change shall take me worse, and no one dare

Look in my face and see.

Meantime I bless thee. By these thoughts of mine

I bless thee from all such!

I bless thy lamp to oil, thy cup to wine,

Thy hearth to joy, thy hand to an equal touch

Of loyal troth. For me, I love thee not,

I love thee not!---away!

Here's no more courage in my soul to say

"Look in my face and see."

"I'm practically dead!" she argues, "Go find someone younger, more beautiful and more full of life who is worthy of your love!  Go!"  Fortunately for them both, he persisted unto persuasion and they enjoyed 15 years of prosperous marriage until her death at age 55. 

If you  get a chance, read her work and read this brief biography.  You will be the richer for having done so!