POEMS OF 1844: SONNETS


ADEQUACY

NOW, by the verdure on thy thousand hills,
Beloved England, doth the earth appear
Quite good enough for men to overbear
The will of God in, with rebellious wills !
We cannot say the morning-sun fulfils
Ingloriously its course, nor that the clear
Strong stars without significance insphere
Our habitation: we, meantime, our ills
Heap up against this good and lift a cry
Against this work-day world, this ill-spread feast,
As if ourselves were better certainly
Than what we come to. Maker and High Priest,
I ask thee not my joys to multiply,--
Only to make me worthier of the least.


These poems are selections from the 1844 work originally entitled
_Poems. By Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, Author of The Seraphim, etc. In two
volumes_. They were prepared for electronic distribution by the inforM
staff. Questions or comments should be directed to inform-editor@umail.umd.edu.