Elizabeth Barrett Browning was born in London in 1809 and died in Florence in 1861.
Here are some excerpts from her poem “A Flower in a Letter”:
My lonely chamber next the sea
Is full of many flowers set free
By summer’s earliest duty:
Dear friends upon the garden-walk
Might stop amid their fondest talk
To pull the least in beauty.
A thousand flowers, each seeming one
That learnt by gazing on the sun
To counterfeit his shining;
Within whose leaves the holy dew
That falls from heaven has won anew
A glory, in declining.
Deep violets, you liken to
The kindest eyes that look on you,
Without a thought disloyal;
And cactuses a queen might don
If weary of a golden crown,
And still appear as royal.
Love’s language may be talked with these;
To work out choicest sentences,
No blossoms can be meeter;
And, such being used in Eastern bowers,
Young maids may wonder if the flowers
Or meanings be the sweeter.