Sonnets from the Portuguese

By Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Mint Editions

Sonnets from the Portuguese (1850) is a collection of sonnets by English poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Written between 1845 and 1846, Sonnets from the Portuguese is a series of love poems written by Browning to her husband, the prominent Victorian poet Robert Browning. Although Elizabeth was initially unsure of the poems, Robert encouraged their publication, suggesting she title them to make readers believe they were translations and not personal declarations of love between the couple. Using the sonnet, Browning adopted a traditional form made famous by Shakespeare while staking a claim for herself as one of nineteenth century England’s premier poets.

Filled with references to the Greek pastoral poet Theocritus and the tragic figure Electra, as well as invocations to God, Sonnets from the Portuguese immerses itself in biblical and classical tradition while remaining deeply personal and authentically romantic. Sonnet “XV” addresses the inherent tragedy of love, the depth of sadness with which a lover beholds another with “Too calm and sad a face,” overwhelmed with the knowledge that with love comes “the end of love, / Hearing oblivion beyond memory.” In sonnet “XXVIII,” Browning reflects on the distance between lovers kept apart: all she has of him are her letters, “all dead paper, mute and white!” And yet, “they seem alive and quivering” in her “tremulous hands,” a living reminder of the man she longs to be with. “XLIII,” the most famous sonnet of the collection, begins “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways,” and records the poet’s confession of a love more powerful than “the passion put to use / In [her] old griefs…” Not only has her lover brought her such joy, he has also given her a love she “seemed to lose / With [her] lost saints,” a love strong enough to transcend religious faith entirely, a love that is destined to last, and to be even “better after death.”

This edition of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnets from the Portuguese is a classic of English literature reimagined for modern readers.

Since our inception in 2020, Mint Editions has kept sustainability and innovation at the forefront of our mission. Each and every Mint Edition title gets a fresh, professionally typeset manuscript and a dazzling new cover, all while maintaining the integrity of the original book.

With thousands of titles in our collection, we aim to spotlight diverse public domain works to help them find modern audiences. Mint Editions celebrates a breadth of literary works, curated from both canonical and overlooked classics from writers around the globe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mint Editions
• Release date: Dec 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781513272764

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861) was an English poet. The daughter of a wealthy family—her father made his fortune as a slave owner in Jamaica, while her mother’s family owned and operated sugar plantations, mills, and ships—Browning eventually became an abolitionist and advocate for child labor laws. Her marriage to the prominent Victorian poet Robert Browning caused the final break between Browning and her family, after which she moved to Italy and lived there with Robert for the rest of her life. She began writing poems at a young age, finding success with the 1844 publication of Poems. Browning went on to be recognized as one of the foremost poets of early Victorian England, influencing such writers as Edgar Allen Poe and Emily Dickinson. She is most famous for her Sonnets from the Portuguese, a collection of 44 love poems published in 1850, and Aurora Leigh, an 1856 epic poem described by leading Victorian critic John Ruskin as the greatest long poem written in the nineteenth century. Browning suffered from numerous illnesses throughout her life, eventually succumbing in Florence at the age of 55.

Book preview

I

I thought once how Theocritus had sung

Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,

Who each one in a gracious hand appears

To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:

And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,

I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,

The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,

Those of my own life, who by turns had flung

A shadow across me. Straightway I was ’ware,

So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move

Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;

And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,—

Guess now who holds thee!—Death, I said, But, there,

The silver answer rang, "Not Death, but

Reviews for Sonnets from the Portuguese

[thornton37814 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

As I read this slim volume of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's sonnets, I thought, "They don't write them like they used to." Browning's sonnets thrill readers with the language of another time and place but show her feelings and thoughts on love and also express her faith. The font on the volume I read was "set up by hand in Goudy Mediaeval type by Arthur and Edna Rushmore at The Golden Hind Press in Madison, New Jersey. Mxmxxxii." The font was as elegant as the poetry!

[books9n9pickles · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

No time for proper reviews right now, as I'm at the end of my last class of grad school and I have a huge pile of short books I've snuck in since February that I need to rate.

While I don't know Barrett Browning's whole story, I do find what I know to be quite meaningful to me. I appreciated the slow progression of the poems from disbelief to love, with all the confused and delightful nuances in between. Yes, I did find myself loving over-quoted sonnet number 14, and we may even read it at our wedding (nothing's settled). But again, I find the touch of melancholy and the knowledge that it was so successfully overcome particularly apt in our case.

I also, to my surprise, very much liked sonnet 6. It really doesn't hold up under a feminist reading--"I feel I shall stand / henceforward in they shadow"--but the overall point of the poem, that no aspect of her life will be untouched by her lover going forward, is beautifully expressed: "What I do / and what I dream include the, as the wine / must taste of its own grapes." If it weren't for that last religious line, I might go for this one for the wedding. Maybe I will anyway...there's nothing to say we can't stop early!

[Dates are a total guess because I totally forget.]
[I almost feel guilty posting this lame review to my feed and forcing people I know to see it.]

[mamashepp · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I must say that I was slow to warm up to the poems and don't think I would have liked them as well without having read the Introduction first. Lovely, very personal. You can really see the path of the love affair between EBB and Robert Browning.

[michael5rimmer · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I had not expected this collection of love poems to be so melancholic. Although a degree of self-doubt and uncertainty goes along with any lovers thoughts, the tone here is of such low self-esteem, such self-recrimination that it strikes me that the poet was suffering from depression. But through the darkness, there are sparks of hope, that maybe love will come, will be true and will rescue.In the end, the poet is redeemed and transformed by love, but it seems to have been a close-run thing.There's such beautiful imagery in every poem that it's almost impossible to select one out above the others, but I particularly like Sonnet V:I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,As one Electra her sepulchral urn,And, looking in thine eyes, I overturnThe ashes at thy feet. Behold and seeWhat a great heap of grief lay hid in me,And how the red wild sparkles dimly burnThrough the ashen greyness. If thy foot in scornCould tread them out to darkness utterly,It might be well perhaps. But if insteadThou wait beside me for the wind to blowThe grey dust up,...those laurels on thine head,O my Belovëd, will not shield thee so,That none of all the fires shall scorch and shredThe hair beneath. Stand further off then! go!

[elpaca · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

First book gift I gave to Mike. After 28 years, still sits on his night stand.n yes, he reads it. Occasionally.

[justicefortibet_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Receiving this as a gift on my 18th birthday from my best friend was one of my "Coming of Age" moments. It opened a wonderful world of being able to express all of those emotions that were inundating me, mentally and physically. I can never thank her enough.

[varwenea · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Despite a strong recommendation from a dear friend whose taste in books I respect greatly, I resisted reading Victorian English poetry, insisting I would never understand it. My resistance weaned, and I am glad for it. This utterly charming set of poetry is heartfelt and uplifting, and I find myself rooting for their love and for Elizabeth Barrett Browning herself. My only wish was for Elizabeth to have lived longer than her 55 years. But to have loved brilliantly for even only 15 years till a person’s end is still more than anyone can hope for. This set of highly personal poetry, written by Elizabeth throughout her courtship with Robert Browning, which began in 1845, eloped in 1846, was gifted to him in 1849. The uniqueness in their relationship drove this set of sonnets to be particularly celebratory. She was an accomplished poet with published works (early career woman), older than him by 6 years (unusual then), she was age 39 when they met (finding love late in life), she was an invalid (shame, feeling inadequate). He courted her for her and the beauty of her poetry, appreciating her mind and her as a person, which is always the best basis to start any relationship. She had great hesitations, partly due to feeling that she doesn’t measure up and some influence from her family, deeming him to be a gold digger. In the end, their love flourished, and we, the readers, are blessed to have this set of sonnets that remind us what Love is really about – all-encompassing, unconditional, whole-heartedly, with acceptance. ♥Quotes (abbreviated):Sonnet I: Her hope for love, but hope lost, given up.The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,Those of my own life,………“Guess now who holds thee!” --- “Death” I said.But thereThe silver anaswer rang, --- “Not Death, but Love” Sonnet VII: To be in love, surprised, and her world changing on account of it. (It’s such a beautiful new experience for her.)…………, where I, who thought to sink,Was caught up into love,………And this… this lute and song… love yesterday,(The singing angels know) are only dearBecause thy name moves right in what they say.Sonnet VIII: Feeling inadequate in the relationship. (To me, this is such a classic amongst even solid relationships, doubting oneself, constantly wondering if you measure up, despite how much love is flowing both ways.)What can I give thee back, O liberalAnd princely giver, who hast brought the gold and purple of thine heart…………… am I cold,Ungrateful, that for these most manifoldHigh gifts, I render nothing back at all?No so; not cold, ---- but very poor instead.Sonnet X: Burning with Love. She is enthralled, enraptured, consumed with love. Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeedAnd worthy of acceptation…………And love is fire. And when I say at needI love thee… mark!... I love thee – in thy sightI stand transfigured…………Sonnet XIV: She asked to be loved, simply for love’s sake and not for anything that may change or out of pity. (I find this to be such a logical and basic thought that doesn’t seem to be considered much.) If thou must love me, let it be for noughtExcept for love’s sake only. Do not say“I love her for her smile ---her look---her wayOf speaking gently,………”For these things in themselves, Beloved, may Be changed, or change for thee,………………….Neither love me forThine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,---………But love me for love’s sake, that evermoreThou may’st love on, through love’s eternity.Sonnet XX: She has doubts and wants reassurance. (I am guilty of requiring reassurance. Perhaps guilty is too strong a word. I simply believe that every relationship should have continued reassurance. No man or woman should be made to assume they are loved while drudging through the stress of daily life, and some times, shamed for wanting assurance. It should be freely given, via a gentle touch, a kind smile, a twinkle in your eyes.) Say over again, and yet once over again,That thou dost love me…………Beloved, I, amid the darkness greetedBy a doubtful spirit – voice, in that doubt’s painCry, “Speak once more---thou lovest!”………Say thou dost love me, love me, love me---tollThe silver iterance!---only minding, Dear,To love me also in silence with thy soul.Sonnet XXXVIII: She writes of the first kiss, the second kiss, the third kiss. (The beauty of increasing passion between two lovers…)First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;………………….The second passed in heightThe frist, and sought the forehead, and half missed,Half falling on the hair…………The third upon my lips was folded downIn perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,I have been proud and said, “My love, my own.”Sonnet XXXIX, in its entirety: To be accepted for who she is, she expresses gratitude. (This is easily the most powerful sonnet, despite the popularity of ‘how do I love thee, let me count the ways’. There is not a single person who does not desire to be accepted for who he/she is. To have found that lover/mate/partner in life is a treasure that ought to be celebrated.)Because thou hast the power and own’st the graceTo look through and behind this mask of me,(Against which, years have beat thus blanchinglyWith their rains,) and behold my soul’s true face,The dim and weary witness of life’s race, -Because thou hast the faith and love to see,Through that same soul’s distracting lethargy,The patient angel waiting for a placeIn the new Heavens, - because nor sin nor woe,Nor God’s infliction, nor death’s neighborhood,Nor all which other’s viewing, turn to go,Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed, -Nothing repels thee … Dearest, teach me soTo pour gratitude, as thou dost, good!Sonnet XLII: She starts a new future, gladly. (Such a powerful conviction and will to know this is what she wants, especially in light that her father has disowned her and her family has abandoned her due to her marriage.) My future will not copy fair my past---I wrote that once; and thinking at my sideMy ministering life………I seek no copy now of life’s first half:Leave here the pages with long musing curled,And write me new my future’s epigraph,New angel mine, unhoped for in the world!Sonnet XLIII, in its entirety: The most famous – to have love that is complete, free, pure, passionate, and also enduring even after death.How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and heightMy soul can reach, when feeling out of sightFor the ends of Being and ideal Grace.I love thee to the level of everyday’sMost 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 useIn my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.I love thee with a love I seemed to loseWith 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.