The following are excerpts from Elizabeth Barrette Browning’s poem
“Aurora Leigh”. What you will read is a patch work attempt on my part
To weave together some of what I found to be the most poignant lines
And word smithing. I may have done her work a disservice, but I interpreted
The poem as a young woman, who living years ago, first came upon the wonder
of Books, and the Bible in particular. It set her soul ablaze with new
Thoughts and emotions that could be seen in her eyes but not understood, by her or others.

Books, books, books!
Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs
Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there
In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy,
The first book first.

And how I felt it beat under my pillow,
In the morning’s dark, an hour before the sun would let me read!
My books!

But I could not hide my quickening inner life from those at watch,
they saw a light at a window now and then, they have not set there.
Who had set it there? My father’s sister started when she caught
My soul agaze in my eyes. She could not say I had no business with
A sort of soul, but plainly she objected – and demurred.

My Father! – Thou hast knowledge, only thou.
I say your words – I could say other words of yours,
For none of all your words has been more lost than sweet verbena,
Which, being brushed against, will hold you three hours after by the smell,
In spite of long walks on the windy hills.

More’s felt than is perceived,
And more’s perceived than can be interpreted,
And Love strikes higher with his lambent flame
Than Art can pile the fagots.

Art is much, but love is more.
Beloved, let us love so well our work shall still be better for our love,
And still our love be sweeter for our work.

And when all’s done, all tried, all counted here,
All great arts and all good philosophies,--
This love just puts its hand out in a dream
And straight outreaches all things.

But if ‘tis sweet for love to pay its debt,
‘Tis sweeter still for love to give its gift.

Photo from the Internet