XI I sang his name instead of song; Over and over I sang his name: Backward and forward I sang it along, With my sweetest notes, it was still the same! I sang it low, that the slave-girls near Might never guess, from what they could hear, That all the song was a name.
Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOur Euripides the human, With his droppings of warm tears, and his touchings of things common Till they rose to meet the spheres.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning