Nature
XVII
From The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Volume 2
Nature
IT trembled on the grass
With a low, shadowy laughter;
You could see each bird as it woke and stared
Through the shrivelled foliage after.
"Fair child thy sister is!
But better loveth she
Thy golden comb than thy gathered flowers,
And better both than thee,
Margret, Margret."
Cite this poem
MLA
Browning, Elizabeth Barrett. “XVII.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/browning_e/84/.
Chicago
Browning, Elizabeth Barrett. “XVII.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/browning_e/84/.
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