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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=383863" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet IX</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=383863" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Can it be right to give what I can give ?<br>To let thee sit beneath the fall of tears<br>As salt as mine, and hear the sighing years<br>Re-sighing on my lips renunciative<br>Through those infrequent smiles which fail to live<br>For all thy adjurations ? O my fears,<br>That this can scarce be right ! We are not peers,<br>So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,<br>That givers of such gifts as mine are, must<br>Be counted with the ungenerous. Out, alas !<br>I will not soil thy purple with my dust,<br>Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice-glass,<br>Nor give thee any love--which were unjust.<br>Beloved, I only love thee ! let it pass.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Barrett+Browning">Elizabeth Barrett Browning</a></strong></div>

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