"Let me count the ways. . . "

If you have never given it serious consideration, you owe to it yourself to read this week's poem of the week--Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnets from the Portuguese No. 43. Too often we leave it at its first line and think of it as a mawkish , love-sick paean to late-found romance (if we know enough to think anything at all about it).  But the power, beauty and stirring nature of this poem deserve a protracted consideration, because what is said is said well and truly and perhaps better than anyone of the 19th Century.


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