Skip to main content

Days of Courtship

Being an avid reader of time-honoured literature and pre-contemporary works, I have spent days and nights living the stories told by the legendary Jane Austen and playing the arbitrator in Louisa May Alcott’s infamous trilogy. I must confess that I had been most profoundly captivated by the magic of the letters between Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning during the early years of their courtship. The letters that were devotedly passionate yet inscribed with utmost humility.

Mind you, this is not a historical literature lesson. It’s no more than a momentary look at what I believe to be the world’s greatest courtship in literature.

Robert Browning was fascinated by Elizabeth’s poems and eminence as one of the greatest poets of the Victorian era. In his very first letter to her, Robert wrote:

I love your verses with all my heart, dear Miss Barrett, ---and this is no off-hand complimentary letter that I shall write, ---whatever else, no prompt matter-of-course recognition of your genius, and there a graceful and natural end of the thing.

Little did he know about the exquisite sonnets she had written during their early days, and it was only after their marriage that he’d convince her to publish them. Perhaps it was the 43rd sonnet that had captivated the scholarly Robert and made him prisoner of her heart. Who wouldn’t be as such affected when those words had been written to him and for him:

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Days of courtship... Cherish them, for they happen to be the merriest of days!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Passion for Verbosity

This morning was nothing but ordinary. I slept past my alarm and barely made it to work on time. This has been the habit for as long as I remember. I have come to acquire a lot of bad habits, yet the worst of them all has to be my passion for words. Yet worse, verbosity . Well spelt, pretentious, cynical and sesquipedalian terms are my favourites. It all started in my early years, when I began exploring the magnificent world of books. I owe it all to my second grade teacher, who was always pushing my classmates and I to read. By the age of 9 I was probably Penguin Books' favourite customer; I had ordered almost every children's book by post, including an encyclopaedia. At age 12 I had read each and every book at my school library - yes, Encyclopaedia Britannica included. That was my little secret. My teenage years had to be the worst period of my life. But in my mind I was living in another world, with Jane Austen, William Blake and Louisa May Alcott. I was lost in the beautifu
2 comments
Read more

Illustrating the Thoughts of a Depressed Mind

It was a cold night. The full moon shone brightly, its soft rays gleaming through the silky white curtains that swayed gently and quietly from side to side. The room had turned into a gallery of silhouettes, with soft shadows embellishing its floor and walls. The human brain is in constant search of amusement, acknowledgement and consolation from the world around. She had no other place but that room to seek all the amusement, acknowledgment and consolation she needed to survive. Oh, how the long hours of night can turn into an entrapment for the sleepless and the forlorn. As she lay unsleeping in bed, her eyes wandered around the silhouettes and shadows, desperately looking for a pattern that could distract her disheartened mind. That was her wishful thinking, which the world seems to conspire against day in, day out. Every evening she would go home and undress herself, remembering to take off the pseudo façade she only wore outside the house. She wasn’t an artist of any sor
Post a Comment
Read more

But Everyone Else Is...

I just turned 26. A year ago I used to shun every possible family conversation that would end in the question "don't you think it's time you got married?" It was mostly my mother and grandmother who would deliberately open the subject in my every presence at family gatherings, grousing about me getting older and musing over stories of family and friends who were my age and had started their own families - some who have even had a child or two! I used to give them that cold look of mine and tell them I'm too busy building a career and that I still haven't found Mr. Perfect. That, I used to truly believe in. Even with my colleagues and friends getting engaged and married, I still had a firm belief in my fairytale that was going to arrive sometime soon. The feeling of me wanting to get married had never crossed my mind. At weddings, I would never even bother to line up for the toss of the bridal bouquet. There was always ample time for me to wait for my prince
Post a Comment
Read more