Poems Of 1844 Sonnets Author:Elizabeth Barrett Browning LIGHT human nature is too lightly tost And ruffled without cause, complaining on-- Restless with rest, until, being overthrown, It learneth to lie quiet. Let a frost Or a small wasp have crept to the inner-most Of our ripe peach, or let the wilful sun Shine westward of our window,--straight we run.