I only thought Of lying quiet there where I was thrown Like sea-weed on the rocks, and suffer her To prick me to a pattern with her pin, Fibre from f… - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The critics say that epics have died out with Agamemnon and the goat-nursed gods; I'll not believe it. I could never deem as Payne Knight did, that Homer's heroes measured twelve feet high. They were but men: -his Helen's hair turned grey like any plain Miss Smith's who wears a front; And Hector's infant whimpered at a plume as yours last Friday at a turkey-cock. All heroes are essential men, and all men possible heroes: every age, heroic in proportions, double faced, looks backward and before, expects a morn and claims an epos.

Di mana-mana terdapat rumput jelatang,
Tapi rumput hijau yang lembut tetap lebih banyak,
Kebiruan langit lebih luas daripada awan gelap.

Kulağına çalınan sevdiğin bir ses,
Sustuysa, tatlılığını yitirdiyse aniden,
Çığlıkla yırtmaya cesaret edemediğin bir sessizlik,
Kuvvetli, taze bir hastalık gibi acıtıyorsa seni,
Ne ümidi? Ne yardımı? Nasıl bir müzik silebilir,
Bu sessizliği kulaklarından?