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Home  »  The World’s Best Poetry  »  Sonnets from the Portuguese. XXXVIII. First time he kissed me, he but only kissed

Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.

VIII. Wedded Love

Sonnets from the Portuguese. XXXVIII. First time he kissed me, he but only kissed

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–1861)

FIRST time he kissed me, he but only kissed

The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;

And, ever since, it grew more clean and white,

Slow to world-greetings, quick with its “O list!”

When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst

I could not wear here, plainer to my sight

Than that first kiss. The second passed in height

The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,

Half falling on the hair. O, beyond meed!

That was the chrism of love, which love’s own crown,

With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.

The third upon my lips was folded down

In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,

I have been proud, and said, “My love, my own!”