Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Insufficiency
I.

There is no one beside thee and no one above thee,
       &nbspThou standest alone as the nightingale sings!
       &nbspAnd my words that would praise thee are impotent things,
For none can express thee though all should approve thee.
       &nbspI love thee so, Dear, that I only can love thee.


II.

Say, what can I do for thee? weary thee, grieve thee?
       &nbspLean on thy shoulder, new burdens to add?
       &nbspWeep my tears over thee, making thee sad?
Oh, hold me not—love me not! let me retrieve thee.
       &nbspI love thee so, Dear, that I only can leave thee.