Sonnets from the Portuguese
The cycle of forty-four sonnets by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, entitled "Sonnets from the Portuguese," is one of the rich verdure-clad peaks of literature. They were written during Miss Barrett's rather brief engagement to Robert Browning, and in the early part of their perfect married life. Mrs. Browning never intended them for publication, but when she finally gave them to her husband he immediately recognized the unequalled treasure that lay in his hand, and felt the right of the world to this pure, high, fervid love-song of a woman. Maybe women have loved even as Elizabeth Barrett loved, but hers is the only frank, utter expression of the love of a woman for a man that takes a place, and stands by its intrinsic merit among the highest attainments in literature.
The seemingly irrelevant title "Sonnets from the Portuguese" was given to them, primarily, owing to Mrs. Browning's unwillingness to have them appear under her name. Mr. Browning called Mrs. Browning, playfully, his "Little Portuguese," so when she suggested that the sonnets be called "Sonnets Translated from the Bosnian," he immediately took the idea, but said, "No,'Sonnets from the Portuguese.' "
In construction they follow the Petrarchian form, and even Mrs. Browning's keenest critics admit their masterly perfection. The sonnets, however, are by no means of equal merit; but the various emotions of her love are told from the day when Browning brought love instead of death into her twilight life, to the magnificent climax in the forty-third sonnet, where her love has reached its full fruition.
I love thee to the depth, breadth, and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle light.
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.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death."