8.5.16

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. Full desertness,
In souls as countries, lieth silent-bare
Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare
Of the absolute heavens. Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy dead in silence like to death—
Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:
If it could weep, it could arise and go.

First Encounter: Tai-Shan Schierenberg on Portrait of a Young Woman | Tate

Portrait painter, Tai-Shan Schierenberg describes the first time he saw Meredith Frampton's painting, Portrait of a Young Woman and how ...