What
better format than poetry to express gratitude, right? Distilling the
appreciation of joys large and small into a framework of words just seems
to cry out for a poem. So let’s have one from Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
Everyone
knows her “How do I love thee” sonnet, XLIII. And love can certainly be an manifestation
of gratitude (or maybe vice versa; I dunno). But Barrett Browning, who suffered
illnesses and pain all her life, also understood that you should seize every
possible opportunity to give thanks out loud, since nothing’s guaranteed.
Sonnet
XLI
I
thank all who have loved me in their hearts,
With
thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all
Who paused
a little near the prison-wall
To hear
my music in its louder parts
Ere they
went onward, each one to the mart’s
Or temple’s
occupation, beyond call.
But thou,
who, in my voice’s sink and fall
When
the sob took it, thy divinest Art’s
Own
instrument didst drop down at thy foot
To hearken
what I said between my tears, …
Instruct
me how to thank the! Oh, to shoot
My soul’s
full meaning into future years,
That
they should lend it utterance, and
salute
Love
that endures, from Life that disappears!
1 comment:
Do we need to point out that it was Browning whose attentions she was cataloguing and to whom her resulting love was singularly addressed? Or am I mistaken?
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