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  2. Grief | The Poetry Foundation

    www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47646

    Grief. By Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless; That only men incredulous of despair, Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air. Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access. Of shrieking and reproach.

  3. Grief by Elizabeth Barrett Browning - Poem Analysis

    poemanalysis.com/elizabeth-barrett-browning/grief

    ‘Grief’ by Elizabeth Barrett Browning tells of the necessary conditions for feeling true grief and the way it transforms one’s body and soul. The poem begins with the speaker stating that those who throw up their arms and wail do not truly grieve.

  4. Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 1806 –. 1861. I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless—. That only men incredulous of despair, Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air, Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access. Of shrieking and reproach.

  5. Elizabeth Barrett BrowningGrief - Genius

    genius.com/Elizabeth-barrett-browning-grief...

    Grief Lyrics. I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless; That only men incredulous of despair, Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air. Beat upward to God's throne in loud access. Of...

  6. Grief - Poetry Out Loud

    www.poetryoutloud.org/poem/grief

    By Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless; That only men incredulous of despair, Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air. Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access. Of shrieking and reproach.

  7. Grief, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning | poems, essays, and ...

    www.poeticous.com/elizabeth-barrett-browning/grief

    Grief. I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless; That only men incredulous of despair, Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air. Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access. Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness, In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare. Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare. Of the absolute heavens.

  8. Elizabeth Barrett Browning 1806 (Kelloe) – 1861 (Florence) Death. Life. Melancholy. I TELL you, hopeless grief is passionless; That only men incredulous of despair, Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air. Beat upward to God's throne in loud access. Of shrieking and reproach.