I love poetry, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet XLIII is a favorite:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Think about these lines

I love thee freely, as men strive for right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.

This sonnet alone makes the volume worthwhile, but there is more, of course.

Much of her writing is in bewilderment at having found love at all, of having been rescued from what she viewed as certain death, and at having that death turned into a life worth the living. All of it is in praise and wonderment of her husband, and a bit of it is in sorrow at the loss of her father. He objected to her marriage and refused ever to speak to her again. If you listen closely, you can hear her threads of regret sprinkled into her elation and thankfulness.

Thou’lt sigh, very like, on thy part,
“Of all I have known or can know,
I wish I had only that heart
I trod upon ages ago!”

It seems to me that she wishes to know that there is regret in her father’s heart as well. Some missing of her; some loving of her residual in his soul that he cannot shed.

There was a huge burden put upon the love between Robert Browning and his wife.

If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
And be all to me? Shall I never miss
Home-talk and blessing and the common kiss
That comes to each in turn, nor count it strange
When I look up, to drop on a new range
Of walls and floors, another home than this?

By all accounts he did not disappoint her in his love and care. They remained married until her death in 1861 at the age of 55. He encouraged her in her writing and in claiming her authorship, and one need only look at her portrait to know that he loved her for her soul and her intelligence as much as for any outward beauty.

Poetry is difficult to critique in the best situations, in this case, when it is so fraught with personal love, it is impossible. I will simply say that to write such poetry, Elizabeth Barrett Browning must surely have felt her love “to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach.”

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Barrett Browning's sonnets are beautiful and lyrical. The way they trace the course of a romance is touching and fascinating. I'm not sure what else I could add to the previous reviews which already trace the story of their creation. (My personal favourite is VII)

Her following poems are spirited and I always feel that one really gets a sense of the woman who created them. They add to the narrative of the sonnets and reveal different facets of the writer.

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There's no doubt that Browning's sonnets stand out above many of the poems here, but this small edition does hold together as a smooth and varied collection of her works. For a reader who doesn't need or want the added explanations that an editor might provide, and who simply wants a sample of Browning's lovely work, this might well be a worthwhile choice. Certainly, many of Browning's words feel dated and idealistic today, but they stand as a beautiful collection of poems from another time, and one worth revisiting. ( )