She has laughed as softly as if she sighed, <br />She has counted six, and over, <br />Of a purse well filled, and a heart well tried - <br />Oh, each a worthy lover! <br />They "give her time"; for her soul must slip <br />Where the world has set the grooving; <br />She will lie to none with her fair red lip: <br />But love seeks truer loving. <br /> <br />She trembles her fan in a sweetness dumb, <br />As her thoughts were beyond recalling; <br />With a glance for one, and a glance for some, <br />From her eyelids rising and falling; <br />Speaks common words with a blushful air, <br />Hears bold words, unreproving; <br />But her silence says - what she never will swear - <br />And love seeks better loving. <br /> <br />Go, lady! lean to the night-guitar, <br />And drop a smile to the bringer; <br />Then smile as sweetly, when he is far, <br />At the voice of an in-door singer. <br />Bask tenderly beneath tender eyes; <br />Glance lightly, on their removing; <br />And join new vows to old perjuries - <br />But dare not call it loving! <br /> <br />Unless you can think, when the song is done, <br />No other is soft in the rhythm; <br />Unless you can feel, when left by One, <br />That all men else go with him; <br />Unless you can know, when unpraised by his breath, <br />That your beauty itself wants proving; <br />Unless you can swear "For life, for death!" - <br />Oh, fear to call it loving! <br /> <br />Unless you can muse in a crowd all day <br />On the absent face that fixed you; <br />Unless you can love, as the angels may, <br />With the breadth of heaven betwixt you; <br />Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, <br />Through behoving and unbehoving; <br />Unless you can die when the dream is past - <br />Oh, never call it loving!<br /><br />Elizabeth Barrett Browning<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-woman-s-shortcomings/
