In this sonnet from her sequence to Robert Browning, Elizabeth Barrett Browning admits something startling: even the love she boasts of, the one she wears like a ruby crown for the world to notice, is not truly her own. She would be incapable of loving at all, she insists, if he had not first caught her eye and demonstrated what love is—when their earnest glances met and he called love by its name. Her soul was faint and weak until he seized it and placed it beside him on a golden throne. The feeling she claims is only possible through him. What begins as a proud declaration quietly folds into an act of deep humility. The mood is tender and reverent, charged with gratitude for a love that is both a gift and a discovery. She closes almost prayerfully: she loves him alone, and only because of him.
Sonnet 12 - Indeed this very love which is my boast — Summary
Indeed this very love which is my boast, And which, when rising up from breast to brow, Doth crown me with a ruby large enow To draw men's eyes and prove the inner cost,— This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost, I should not love withal, unless that thou Hadst set me an example, shown me how, When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed, And love called love. And thus, I cannot speak Of love even, as a good thing of my own: Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak, And placed it by thee on a golden throne,— And that I love (O soul, we must be meek!) Is by thee only, whom I love alone.