Quote#Sadness
Take from my head the thorn-wreath brown!
Quote byElizabeth Barrett Browning · 1806–1861
Commonly attributed — not confirmed in an authoritative edition. Cited on Wikiquote to: Last Poems (1862), "De Profundis", sts. 20-21.
English (original)
Take from my head the thorn-wreath brown! No mortal grief deserves that crown. O supreme Love, chief misery, The sharp regalia are for Thee Whose days eternally go on!For us, — whatever's undergone, Thou knowest, willest what is done, Grief may be joy misunderstood; Only the Good discerns the good. I trust Thee while my days go on.
— Elizabeth Barrett Browning
More from Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low, Lest I should fear and fall, and miss thee so Who art not missed by any that entreat.
Deep-hearted man, express Grief for thy dead in silence like to death; Most like a monumental statue set In everlasting watch and moveless woe, Till itself crumble to the dust beneath. Touch it: the marble eyelids are not wet—
By thunders of white silence.
Unless you can muse in a crowd all day On the absent face that fixed you; Unless you can love, as the angels may, With the breadth of heaven betwixt you; Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, Through behoving and unbehoving;
I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless.
Thou large-brained woman and large-hearted man.