Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXVII
1My own Belovèd, who hast lifted me
2From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown,
3And, in betwixt the languid ringlets, blown
4A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully
5Shines out again, as all the angels see,
6Before thy saving kiss! My own, my own,
7Who camest to me when the world was gone,
8And I who looked for only God, found thee!
9I find thee; I am safe, and strong, and glad.
11Looks backward on the tedious time he had
12In the upper life,-so I, with bosom-swell,
13Make witness, here, between the good and bad,
14That Love, as strong as Death, retrieves as well.
10] asphodel: an immortal flower that covers the Elysian fields, that section of the ancient Greek underworld where the souls of the heroic and virtuous reside Back to Line