She was educated at the home of her strict father, who was a merchant and a millionaire. Her work was first published in 1896.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning came from a large and extremely wealthy family immortalised in the movie starring Charles Laughton entitled the Barretts of Wimpole Street. Elizabeth Barrett Browning was the sickly child of her many brothers and sisters and the favourite of her strict father. Elizabeth spent much of her time in her room and began to write poetry as she was unable to leave the house. Her interest in poetry lead to her reading some of the works of the poet Robert Browning. They eventually met and fell in love. Her father was much against the marriage but Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett still decided to marry. A true dog lover as can be seen by the words of her poem ' To Flush, My Dog '. The words to the poem To Flush, My Dog demonstrate the poets empathy with dogs. Flush provided great comfort to Elizabeth Barrett Browning as she was an invalid , confined to the house, for many years! We are sure that every dog lover will take enormous pleasure from the words of the poem To Flush, My Dog by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
To Flush, My Dog
by
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Yet, my pretty sportive friend,
Little is't to such an end
That I praise thy rareness!
Other dogs may be thy peers
Haply in these drooping ears,
And this glossy fairness.
But of thee it shall be said,
This dog watched beside a bed
Day and night unweary
Watched within a curtained room,
Where no sunbeam brake the gloom
Round the sick and dreary.
Roses, gathered for a vase,
In that chamber died apace,
Beam and breeze resigning.
This dog only, waited on,
Knowing that when light is gone
Love remains for shining.
Other dogs in thymy dew
Tracked the hares, and followed through
Sunny moor or meadow.
This dog only, crept and crept
Next a languid cheek that slept,
Sharing in the shadow.
Other dogs of loyal cheer
Bounded at the whistle clear,
Up the woodside hieing.
This dog only, watched in reach
Of a faintly uttered speech,
Or a louder sighing.
And if one or two quick tears
Dropped upon his glossy ears,
Or a sigh came double
Up he sprang in eager haste,
Fawning, fondling, breathing fast,
In a tender trouble.
And this dog was satisfied
If a pale thin hand would glide
Down his dewlaps sloping
Which he pushed his nose within,
After—platforming his chin
On the palm left open.
To Flush, My Dog
by
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
