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object:Robert Browning
class:author
subject class:Poetry


--- WIKI
Robert Browning (7 May 1812 12 December 1889) was an English poet and playwright whose mastery of the dramatic monologue made him one of the foremost Victorian poets. His poems are known for their irony, characterization, dark humour, social commentary, historical settings, and challenging vocabulary and syntax. Browning's early career began promisingly, but collapsed. The long poems Pauline and Paracelsus received some acclaim, but in 1840 the difficult Sordello, which was seen as wilfully obscure, brought his poetry into disrepute. His reputation took more than a decade to recover, during which time he moved away from the Shelleyan forms of his early period and developed a more personal style. In 1846, Browning married the older poet Elizabeth Barrett, and went to live in Italy. By the time of her death in 1861, he had published the crucial collection Men and Women. The collection Dramatis Personae and the book-length epic poem The Ring and the Book followed, and made him a leading British poet. He continued to write prolifically, but his reputation today rests largely on the poetry he wrote in this middle period. When Browning died in 1889, he was regarded as a sage and philosopher-poet who through his writing had made contri butions to Victorian social and political discourse. Unusually for a poet, societies for the study of his work were founded while he was still alive. Such Browning Societies remained common in Britain and the United States until the early 20th century.

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OBJECT INSTANCES [0] - TOPICS - AUTHORS - BOOKS - CHAPTERS - CLASSES - SEE ALSO - SIMILAR TITLES

TOPICS
SEE ALSO


AUTH

BOOKS
Browning_-_Poems
Infinite_Library

IN CHAPTERS TITLE

IN CHAPTERS CLASSNAME
1.rb_-_Abt_Vogler
1.rb_-_A_Cavalier_Song
1.rb_-_After
1.rb_-_A_Grammarian's_Funeral_Shortly_After_The_Revival_Of_Learning
1.rb_-_Aix_In_Provence
1.rb_-_A_Light_Woman
1.rb_-_A_Lovers_Quarrel
1.rb_-_Among_The_Rocks
1.rb_-_Andrea_del_Sarto
1.rb_-_An_Epistle_Containing_the_Strange_Medical_Experience_of_Kar
1.rb_-_Another_Way_Of_Love
1.rb_-_Any_Wife_To_Any_Husband
1.rb_-_A_Pretty_Woman
1.rb_-_A_Serenade_At_The_Villa
1.rb_-_A_Toccata_Of_Galuppi's
1.rb_-_A_Womans_Last_Word
1.rb_-_Before
1.rb_-_Bishop_Blougram's_Apology
1.rb_-_Bishop_Orders_His_Tomb_at_Saint_Praxed's_Church,_Rome,_The
1.rb_-_By_The_Fire-Side
1.rb_-_Caliban_upon_Setebos_or,_Natural_Theology_in_the_Island
1.rb_-_Childe_Roland_To_The_Dark_Tower_Came
1.rb_-_Cleon
1.rb_-_Confessions
1.rb_-_Cristina
1.rb_-_De_Gustibus
1.rb_-_Earth's_Immortalities
1.rb_-_Evelyn_Hope
1.rb_-_Fra_Lippo_Lippi
1.rb_-_Garden_Francies
1.rb_-_Holy-Cross_Day
1.rb_-_Home_Thoughts,_from_the_Sea
1.rb_-_How_They_Brought_The_Good_News_From_Ghent_To_Aix
1.rb_-_In_A_Gondola
1.rb_-_In_A_Year
1.rb_-_Incident_Of_The_French_Camp
1.rb_-_In_Three_Days
1.rb_-_Introduction:_Pippa_Passes
1.rb_-_Life_In_A_Love
1.rb_-_Love_Among_The_Ruins
1.rb_-_Love_In_A_Life
1.rb_-_Master_Hugues_Of_Saxe-Gotha
1.rb_-_Meeting_At_Night
1.rb_-_Memorabilia
1.rb_-_Mesmerism
1.rb_-_My_Last_Duchess
1.rb_-_My_Star
1.rb_-_Nationality_In_Drinks
1.rb_-_Never_the_Time_and_the_Place
1.rb_-_Now!
1.rb_-_Old_Pictures_In_Florence
1.rb_-_O_Lyric_Love
1.rb_-_One_Way_Of_Love
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_III_-_Paracelsus
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_II_-_Paracelsus_Attains
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_I_-_Paracelsus_Aspires
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_IV_-_Paracelsus_Aspires
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_V_-_Paracelsus_Attains
1.rb_-_Parting_At_Morning
1.rb_-_Pauline,_A_Fragment_of_a_Question
1.rb_-_Pippa_Passes_-_Part_III_-_Evening
1.rb_-_Pippa_Passes_-_Part_II_-_Noon
1.rb_-_Pippa_Passes_-_Part_I_-_Morning
1.rb_-_Pippa_Passes_-_Part_IV_-_Night
1.rb_-_Pippas_Song
1.rb_-_Popularity
1.rb_-_Porphyrias_Lover
1.rb_-_Prospice
1.rb_-_Protus
1.rb_-_Rabbi_Ben_Ezra
1.rb_-_Respectability
1.rb_-_Rhyme_for_a_Child_Viewing_a_Naked_Venus_in_a_Painting_of_'The_Judgement_of_Paris'
1.rb_-_Soliloquy_Of_The_Spanish_Cloister
1.rb_-_Song
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Fifth
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_First
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Fourth
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Second
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Sixth
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Third
1.rb_-_The_Boy_And_the_Angel
1.rb_-_The_Englishman_In_Italy
1.rb_-_The_Flight_Of_The_Duchess
1.rb_-_The_Glove
1.rb_-_The_Guardian-Angel
1.rb_-_The_Italian_In_England
1.rb_-_The_Laboratory-Ancien_Rgime
1.rb_-_The_Last_Ride_Together
1.rb_-_The_Lost_Leader
1.rb_-_The_Lost_Mistress
1.rb_-_The_Patriot
1.rb_-_The_Pied_Piper_Of_Hamelin
1.rb_-_The_Twins
1.rb_-_Times_Revenges
1.rb_-_Two_In_The_Campagna
1.rb_-_Waring
1.rb_-_Why_I_Am_a_Liberal
1.rb_-_Women_And_Roses
1.rb_-_Youll_Love_Me_Yet

IN CHAPTERS TEXT
1.24_-_Necromancy_and_Spiritism
1.55_-_Money
1.83_-_Epistola_Ultima
1.jk_-_What_The_Thrush_Said._Lines_From_A_Letter_To_John_Hamilton_Reynolds
1.jlb_-_Browning_Decides_To_Be_A_Poet
1.pbs_-_The_Indian_Serenade
1.rb_-_Abt_Vogler
1.rb_-_A_Cavalier_Song
1.rb_-_After
1.rb_-_A_Grammarian's_Funeral_Shortly_After_The_Revival_Of_Learning
1.rb_-_Aix_In_Provence
1.rb_-_A_Light_Woman
1.rb_-_A_Lovers_Quarrel
1.rb_-_Among_The_Rocks
1.rb_-_Andrea_del_Sarto
1.rb_-_An_Epistle_Containing_the_Strange_Medical_Experience_of_Kar
1.rb_-_Another_Way_Of_Love
1.rb_-_Any_Wife_To_Any_Husband
1.rb_-_A_Pretty_Woman
1.rb_-_A_Serenade_At_The_Villa
1.rb_-_A_Toccata_Of_Galuppi's
1.rb_-_A_Womans_Last_Word
1.rb_-_Before
1.rb_-_Bishop_Blougram's_Apology
1.rb_-_Bishop_Orders_His_Tomb_at_Saint_Praxed's_Church,_Rome,_The
1.rb_-_By_The_Fire-Side
1.rb_-_Caliban_upon_Setebos_or,_Natural_Theology_in_the_Island
1.rb_-_Childe_Roland_To_The_Dark_Tower_Came
1.rb_-_Cleon
1.rb_-_Confessions
1.rb_-_Cristina
1.rb_-_De_Gustibus
1.rb_-_Earth's_Immortalities
1.rb_-_Evelyn_Hope
1.rb_-_Fra_Lippo_Lippi
1.rb_-_Garden_Francies
1.rb_-_Holy-Cross_Day
1.rb_-_Home_Thoughts,_from_the_Sea
1.rb_-_How_They_Brought_The_Good_News_From_Ghent_To_Aix
1.rb_-_In_A_Gondola
1.rb_-_In_A_Year
1.rb_-_Incident_Of_The_French_Camp
1.rb_-_In_Three_Days
1.rb_-_Introduction:_Pippa_Passes
1.rb_-_Life_In_A_Love
1.rb_-_Love_Among_The_Ruins
1.rb_-_Love_In_A_Life
1.rb_-_Master_Hugues_Of_Saxe-Gotha
1.rb_-_Meeting_At_Night
1.rb_-_Memorabilia
1.rb_-_Mesmerism
1.rb_-_My_Last_Duchess
1.rb_-_My_Star
1.rb_-_Nationality_In_Drinks
1.rb_-_Never_the_Time_and_the_Place
1.rb_-_Now!
1.rb_-_Old_Pictures_In_Florence
1.rb_-_O_Lyric_Love
1.rb_-_One_Way_Of_Love
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_III_-_Paracelsus
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_II_-_Paracelsus_Attains
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_I_-_Paracelsus_Aspires
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_IV_-_Paracelsus_Aspires
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_V_-_Paracelsus_Attains
1.rb_-_Parting_At_Morning
1.rb_-_Pauline,_A_Fragment_of_a_Question
1.rb_-_Pippa_Passes_-_Part_III_-_Evening
1.rb_-_Pippa_Passes_-_Part_II_-_Noon
1.rb_-_Pippa_Passes_-_Part_I_-_Morning
1.rb_-_Pippa_Passes_-_Part_IV_-_Night
1.rb_-_Pippas_Song
1.rb_-_Popularity
1.rb_-_Porphyrias_Lover
1.rb_-_Prospice
1.rb_-_Protus
1.rb_-_Rabbi_Ben_Ezra
1.rb_-_Respectability
1.rb_-_Rhyme_for_a_Child_Viewing_a_Naked_Venus_in_a_Painting_of_'The_Judgement_of_Paris'
1.rb_-_Soliloquy_Of_The_Spanish_Cloister
1.rb_-_Song
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Fifth
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_First
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Fourth
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Second
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Sixth
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Third
1.rb_-_The_Boy_And_the_Angel
1.rb_-_The_Englishman_In_Italy
1.rb_-_The_Flight_Of_The_Duchess
1.rb_-_The_Glove
1.rb_-_The_Guardian-Angel
1.rb_-_The_Italian_In_England
1.rb_-_The_Laboratory-Ancien_Rgime
1.rb_-_The_Last_Ride_Together
1.rb_-_The_Lost_Leader
1.rb_-_The_Lost_Mistress
1.rb_-_The_Patriot
1.rb_-_The_Pied_Piper_Of_Hamelin
1.rb_-_The_Twins
1.rb_-_Times_Revenges
1.rb_-_Two_In_The_Campagna
1.rb_-_Waring
1.rb_-_Why_I_Am_a_Liberal
1.rb_-_Women_And_Roses
1.rb_-_Youll_Love_Me_Yet
1.wby_-_Are_You_Content?

PRIMARY CLASS

author
SIMILAR TITLES
Robert Browning

DEFINITIONS



QUOTES [4 / 4 - 500 / 561]


KEYS (10k)

   4 Robert Browning

NEW FULL DB (2.4M)

  426 Robert Browning
   52 Robert Browning
   2 Susanna Kearsley
   2 Harper Lee
   2 Cassandra Clare
   2 Anonymous

1:The best is yet to be.
   ~ Robert Browning,
2:A minute's success pays the failure of years.
   ~ Robert Browning,
3:What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.
   ~ Robert Browning,
4:For mark! no sooner was I fairly found
   Pledged to the plain, after a pace or two,
   Than, pausing to throw backward a last view
   O'er the safe road, 't was gone; gray plain all round:
   Nothing but plain to the horizon's bound.
   I might go on; nought else remain'd to do.
   ~ Robert Browning, from Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came,

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:Wander at will, ~ Robert Browning
2:As if true pride ~ Robert Browning
3:Hold On. Hope Hard. ~ Robert Browning
4:Faultless to a fault. ~ Robert Browning
5:Look not down but up! ~ Robert Browning
6:The Best Is Yet To Be ~ Robert Browning
7:The best is yet to be. ~ Robert Browning
8:Life is an empty dream. ~ Robert Browning
9:Love is energy of life. ~ Robert Browning
10:God is the perfect poet. ~ Robert Browning
11:The peerless cup afloat ~ Robert Browning
12:Death: the grand perhaps. ~ Robert Browning
13:I count life just a stuff ~ Robert Browning
14:Shun death, is my advice. ~ Robert Browning
15:Silence 'tis awe decrees. ~ Robert Browning
16:The best is yet to be.
   ~ Robert Browning,
17:All's love, yet all's law. ~ Robert Browning
18:My sun sets to rise again. ~ Robert Browning
19:Smiling the boy fell dead. ~ Robert Browning
20:Truth is within ourselves. ~ Robert Browning
21:What so wild as words are? ~ Robert Browning
22:Love is the energy of life. ~ Robert Browning
23:Thought is the soul of act. ~ Robert Browning
24:Never the time and the place ~ Robert Browning
25:Sorrow, the heart must bear, ~ Robert Browning
26:Truth never hurt the teller. ~ Robert Browning
27:Who knows most, doubts most. ~ Robert Browning
28:---all's love, yet all's law. ~ Robert Browning
29:Graved inside of it, "Italy". ~ Robert Browning
30:No thought which ever stirred ~ Robert Browning
31:Truth never hurts the teller. ~ Robert Browning
32:Earth is crammed with heavens. ~ Robert Browning
33:Most progress is most failure. ~ Robert Browning
34:Praise is deeper than the lips ~ Robert Browning
35:When pain ends, gain ends too. ~ Robert Browning
36:Open my heart, and you will see ~ Robert Browning
37:A lion may die of an ass's kick. ~ Robert Browning
38:And gain is gain, however small. ~ Robert Browning
39:Good to forgive, Best to forget. ~ Robert Browning
40:Women hate a debt as men a gift. ~ Robert Browning
41:All service is the same with God. ~ Robert Browning
42:Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! ~ Robert Browning
43:It was roses, roses, all the way, ~ Robert Browning
44:Talent should minister to genius. ~ Robert Browning
45:Truth is truth howe'er it strike. ~ Robert Browning
46:Without love, our earth is a tomb ~ Robert Browning
47:How good is life, the mere living! ~ Robert Browning
48:Imperfection means perfection hid. ~ Robert Browning
49:O lyric love! half angel half bird ~ Robert Browning
50:But facts are facts and flinch not. ~ Robert Browning
51:God smiles as He has always smiled; ~ Robert Browning
52:Ignorance is not innocence but sin. ~ Robert Browning
53:Make us happy and you make us good. ~ Robert Browning
54:A man in armor is his armor's slave. ~ Robert Browning
55:Why stay we on earth except to grow? ~ Robert Browning
56:A man's reach should exceed his grasp ~ Robert Browning
57:Have you found your life distasteful? ~ Robert Browning
58:Man partly is and wholly hopes to be. ~ Robert Browning
59:Sing, riding 's a joy! For me I ride. ~ Robert Browning
60:Tis looking downward makes one dizzy. ~ Robert Browning
61:Why stay on the earth except to grow. ~ Robert Browning
62:A man in armour is his armour's slave. ~ Robert Browning
63:Be sure they sleep not whom God needs. ~ Robert Browning
64:How very hard it is to be a Christian! ~ Robert Browning
65:Our aspirations are our possibilities. ~ Robert Browning
66:Still more labyrinthine buds the rose. ~ Robert Browning
67:I am grown peaceful as old age tonight. ~ Robert Browning
68:I, painting from myself and to myself, ~ Robert Browning
69:Never brag, never bluster, never blush. ~ Robert Browning
70:Nor yours nor mine, nor slave nor free! ~ Robert Browning
71:Take away love and our earth is a tomb. ~ Robert Browning
72:Who knows but the world may end tonight ~ Robert Browning
73:Again the Cousin's whistle! Go, my Love. ~ Robert Browning
74:All will be gay when noontide wakes anew ~ Robert Browning
75:Grow old with me! The best is yet to be. ~ Robert Browning
76:I do what many dream of, all their lives ~ Robert Browning
77:Once more on my adventure brave and new. ~ Robert Browning
78:When is man strong until he feels alone? ~ Robert Browning
79:Any nose may ravage with impunity a rose. ~ Robert Browning
80:A pretty woman's worth some pains to see, ~ Robert Browning
81:A pretty woman's worth some pains to see. ~ Robert Browning
82:Lofty designs must close in like effects. ~ Robert Browning
83:No work begun shall ever pause for death. ~ Robert Browning
84:Our aspirations are our responsibilities. ~ Robert Browning
85:'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls. ~ Robert Browning
86:And let them pass, as they will too soon, ~ Robert Browning
87:I know a mount, the gracious Sun perceives ~ Robert Browning
88:I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds ~ Robert Browning
89:It's like those eerie stories nurses tell, ~ Robert Browning
90:Of what I call God, And fools call Nature. ~ Robert Browning
91:Other heights in other lives, God willing. ~ Robert Browning
92:The best things in life can never be kept; ~ Robert Browning
93:The past is gained, secure, and on record. ~ Robert Browning
94:Every one soon or late comes round by Rome. ~ Robert Browning
95:Good strong thick stupefying incense-smoke! ~ Robert Browning
96:Motherhood: All love begins and ends there. ~ Robert Browning
97:Our business was done at the river's brink; ~ Robert Browning
98:O world, as God has made it! All is beauty. ~ Robert Browning
99:Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought. ~ Robert Browning
100:Truth is within ourselves; it takes no rise ~ Robert Browning
101:Any nose
May ravage with impunity a rose. ~ Robert Browning
102:Best be yourself, imperial, plain, and true. ~ Robert Browning
103:Death was past, life not come: so he waited. ~ Robert Browning
104:Earth being so good, would heaven seem best? ~ Robert Browning
105:God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures ~ Robert Browning
106:He guides me and the bird. In His good time! ~ Robert Browning
107:Men are not angels, neither are they brutes. ~ Robert Browning
108:Oh, to be in England now that April's there. ~ Robert Browning
109:Since there my past life lies, why alter it? ~ Robert Browning
110:What joy is better than the news of friends? ~ Robert Browning
111:Where the heart lies, let the brain lie also ~ Robert Browning
112:A bitter heart that bides its time and bites. ~ Robert Browning
113:A minute's success pays the failure of years. ~ Robert Browning
114:A minute’s success pays the failure of years. ~ Robert Browning
115:Believeth with the life, the pain shall stop. ~ Robert Browning
116:God! Thou art love! I build my faith on that. ~ Robert Browning
117:I felt a strange delight in causing my decay. ~ Robert Browning
118:I show you doubt, to prove that faith exists. ~ Robert Browning
119:Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar. ~ Robert Browning
120:One taste of the old time sets all to rights. ~ Robert Browning
121:Such ever was love's way: to rise, it stoops. ~ Robert Browning
122:The great mind knows the power of gentleness. ~ Robert Browning
123:Where the heart lies, let the brain lie also. ~ Robert Browning
124:A minute of success pays for years of failure. ~ Robert Browning
125:Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be. ~ Robert Browning
126:Grow old along with me. The best is yet to be. ~ Robert Browning
127:Grow old along with me--the best is yet to be, ~ Robert Browning
128:Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be! ~ Robert Browning
129:Night conceals a world but reveals a universe. ~ Robert Browning
130:What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me. ~ Robert Browning
131:When the liquor's out, why clink the cannikin? ~ Robert Browning
132:Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure. ~ Robert Browning
133:'Tis well averred, A scientific faith's absurd. ~ Robert Browning
134:What a thing friendship is - World without end. ~ Robert Browning
135:A minute's success pays the failure of years.
   ~ Robert Browning,
136:Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years. ~ Robert Browning
137:One wise man's verdict outweighs all the fools'. ~ Robert Browning
138:The world and life's too big to pass for a dream ~ Robert Browning
139:What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew ~ Robert Browning
140:God is in his Heaven, all's right with the world. ~ Robert Browning
141:Man seeks his own good at the whole world's cost. ~ Robert Browning
142:Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts. ~ Robert Browning
143:Over my head his arm he flung, Against the world. ~ Robert Browning
144:What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.
   ~ Robert Browning,
145:What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew. ~ Robert Browning
146:But there are times when patience proves at fault. ~ Robert Browning
147:Time is counted, not by hours, but by heart-beats. ~ Robert Browning
148:Art remains the one way possible of speaking truth. ~ Robert Browning
149:God’s in His heaven—
All’s right with the world! ~ Robert Browning
150:Progress is The law of life: man is not Man as yet. ~ Robert Browning
151:Therefore I summon age / To grant youth's heritage. ~ Robert Browning
152:Time'swheelsrunsbackor stops: Potterand clayendure. ~ Robert Browning
153:Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once. ~ Robert Browning
154:All poetry is putting the infinite within the finite. ~ Robert Browning
155:No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers, ~ Robert Browning
156:Things are where things are, and, as fate has willed, ~ Robert Browning
157:Baik untuk memaafkan, lebih baik lagi untuk melupakan. ~ Robert Browning
158:Let friend trust friends, and love demand love's like. ~ Robert Browning
159:Make no more giants, God!But elevate the race at once! ~ Robert Browning
160:That great brow And the spirit-small hand propping it. ~ Robert Browning
161:Ambition is not what man does... but what man would do. ~ Robert Browning
162:Who hears music, feels his solitude
Peopled at once. ~ Robert Browning
163:Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything. ~ Robert Browning
164:My care is for myself; Myself am whole and sole reality. ~ Robert Browning
165:The lie was dead And damned, and truth stood up instead. ~ Robert Browning
166:All poetry is difficult to read - The sense of it anyhow. ~ Robert Browning
167:Escape me? Never, beloved! While I am I, and you are you. ~ Robert Browning
168:The best way to excape his ire Is, not to seem too happy. ~ Robert Browning
169:Truth that peeps Over the glass's edge when dinner's done. ~ Robert Browning
170:how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet ~ Robert Browning
171:Would you have your songs endure? Build on the human heart. ~ Robert Browning
172:On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round. ~ Robert Browning
173:Can we love but on condition that the thing we love must die? ~ Robert Browning
174:I judge people by what they might be, - not are, nor will be. ~ Robert Browning
175:In the first is the last, in thy will is my power to believe. ~ Robert Browning
176:There is no truer truth obtainable by Man than comes of music ~ Robert Browning
177:Fair or foul the lot apportioned life on earth, we bear alike. ~ Robert Browning
178:From the sprinkled isles, Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea. ~ Robert Browning
179:Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again. ~ Robert Browning
180:Poetry, like love, is something we never truly say goodbye to. ~ Robert Browning
181:The curious crime, the fine Felicity and flower of wickedness. ~ Robert Browning
182:There is to truer truth attainable to man than comes of music. ~ Robert Browning
183:What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop? ~ Robert Browning
184:When the fight begins within himself, a man's worth something. ~ Robert Browning
185:Needs there groan a world in anguish just to teach us sympathy? ~ Robert Browning
186:Open my heart and you will see
Graved inside of it, "Italy". ~ Robert Browning
187:Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last. ~ Robert Browning
188:Twere too absurd to slight For the hereafter the todays delight! ~ Robert Browning
189:There's a new tribunal now higher than God's -The educated man's! ~ Robert Browning
190:Youth means love, Vows can't change nature, priests are only men. ~ Robert Browning
191:Aspire, break bounds. Endeavor to be good, and better still, best. ~ Robert Browning
192:At last awake from life, that insane dream we take for waking now. ~ Robert Browning
193:God is the perfect poet, Who in his person acts his own creations. ~ Robert Browning
194:In the morning of the world, When earth was nigher heaven than now. ~ Robert Browning
195:Lose who may-I still can say, Those who win heaven, blest are they! ~ Robert Browning
196:On a day like today I am stung by the splendor of a sudden thought. ~ Robert Browning
197:Pleasure must succeed to pleasure, else past pleasure turns to pain ~ Robert Browning
198:Be sure that God Ne'er dooms to waste the strength he deigns impart. ~ Robert Browning
199:Mid the sharp, short emerald wheat, scarce risen three fingers well, ~ Robert Browning
200:No, when the fight begins within himself, / A man's worth something. ~ Robert Browning
201:The body sprang At once to the height, and stayed; but the soul,-no! ~ Robert Browning
202:The great beacon light God sets in all, the conscience of each bosom. ~ Robert Browning
203:Womanliness means only motherhood;
All love begins and ends there. ~ Robert Browning
204:Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for? ~ Robert Browning
205:Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a Heaven for? ~ Robert Browning
206:This could but have happened once,- And we missed it, lost it forever. ~ Robert Browning
207:Where the apple reddens never pry - lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I. ~ Robert Browning
208:Who knows most, doubts most; entertaining hope means recognizing fear. ~ Robert Browning
209:Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay. ~ Robert Browning
210:Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds? ~ Robert Browning
211:The only fault's with time; All men become good creatures: but so slow! ~ Robert Browning
212:Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for? ~ Robert Browning
213:Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell! ~ Robert Browning
214:So, fall asleep love, loved by me... for I know love, I am loved by thee. ~ Robert Browning
215:Strike when thou wilt, the hour of rest, but let my last days be my best. ~ Robert Browning
216:Ah, love, - you are my unutterable blessing.....I am in full sunshine now. ~ Robert Browning
217:He who did well in war just earns the right, To begin doing well in peace. ~ Robert Browning
218:I hold that a man should strive to the uttermost for his life's set prize. ~ Robert Browning
219:I know what I want and what I might gain, and yet, how profitless to know. ~ Robert Browning
220:Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn. ~ Robert Browning
221:Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason. ~ Robert Browning
222:'Tis only when they spring to Heaven that angels reveal themselves to you. ~ Robert Browning
223:A face to lose youth for, to occupy age With the dream of, meet death with. ~ Robert Browning
224:Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or else what's a heaven for? ~ Robert Browning
225:A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: See all, nor be afraid! ~ Robert Browning
226:Mothers, wives and maids, These be the tools with which priests manage men. ~ Robert Browning
227:All June I bound the rose in sheaves, Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves. ~ Robert Browning
228:O lyric Love, half angel and half bird. And all a wonder and a wild desire. ~ Robert Browning
229:O poder do Homem deve exceder o seu alcance. Senão, para que serviria o céu? ~ Robert Browning
230:The candid incline to surmise of late that the Christian faith proves false. ~ Robert Browning
231:But little do or can the best of us: That little is achieved through Liberty. ~ Robert Browning
232:I have lived, And seen God's hand thro a life time, And all was for the best. ~ Robert Browning
233:The good stars met in your horoscope,
Made you of spirit and fire and dew. ~ Robert Browning
234:Generations pass while some tree stands, and old families last not three oaks. ~ Robert Browning
235:When she looked thus, only God and Robert Browning knew what she was likely to say. ~ Harper Lee
236:Genius has somewhat of the infantine; but of the childish not a touch or taint. ~ Robert Browning
237:I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever. ~ Robert Browning
238:To me at least was never evening yet, but seemed far beautifuller than its day. ~ Robert Browning
239:Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat. ~ Robert Browning
240:So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon! ~ Robert Browning
241:God's in His Heaven —  All's right with the world! ~ Robert Browning, Pippa Passes (1841), Part I
242:If thou tastest a crust of bread, thou tastest all the stars and all the heavens. ~ Robert Browning
243:The devil, that old stager, who leads downward, perhaps, but fiddles all the way! ~ Robert Browning
244:As is your sort of mind, So is your sort of search: You will find what you desire. ~ Robert Browning
245:God is seen God In the star, in the stone, in the flesh, in the soul and the clod. ~ Robert Browning
246:If you get simple beauty and naught else, you get about the best thing god invents ~ Robert Browning
247:Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep. ~ Robert Browning
248:Hatred and cark and care, what place have they / In yon blue liberality of heaven?. ~ Robert Browning
249:If you get simple beauty and naught else, you get about the best thing God invents. ~ Robert Browning
250:Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete! ~ Robert Browning
251:Is your love for the Lord sufficient to give all your time and talents to his work? ~ Robert Browning
252:Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away. ~ Robert Browning
253:My business is not to remake myself, but to make the absolute best of what God made. ~ Robert Browning
254:Sappho survives, because we sing her songs; And Eschylus, because we read his plays! ~ Robert Browning
255:That we devote ourselves to God, is seen In living just as though no God there were. ~ Robert Browning
256:Who was a queen and loved a poet once
Humpbacked, a dwarf? ah, women can do that! ~ Robert Browning
257:But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past? ~ Robert Browning
258:grow old with me. the best is yet to be. the last of life for which the first was made. ~ Robert Browning
259:As is your sort of mind,
So is your sort of search:
You will find what you desire. ~ Robert Browning
260:Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe, all were for me, in the kiss of one girl. ~ Robert Browning
261:Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character ~ Robert Browning
262:Success in marriage is more than finding the right person: it is being the right person. ~ Robert Browning
263:You should not take a fellow eight years old and make him swear to never kiss the girls. ~ Robert Browning
264:Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character. ~ Robert Browning
265:There is nothing so unpardonable as to consent to a senseless, aimless, purposeless life. ~ Robert Browning
266:grow old with me. the best is yet to be.
the last of life for which the first was made. ~ Robert Browning
267:In God's good time, Which does not always fall on Saturday When the world looks for wages. ~ Robert Browning
268:Of what I call God,  And fools call Nature. ~ Robert Browning, The Ring and the Book, The Pope, line 1,073
269:How strange now, looks the life he makes us lead; So free we seem, so fettered fast we are! ~ Robert Browning
270:For life, with all its yields of joy and woe Is just a chance o' the prize of learning love. ~ Robert Browning
271:If all the world is a stage and life is just a play upon it, get me two seats in the stalls. ~ Robert Browning
272:Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven. ~ Robert Browning
273:One may do whatever one likes. In art, the only thing is, to make sure that one does like it. ~ Robert Browning
274:Rejoice that man is hurled, From change to change unceasingly, His soul's wings never furled! ~ Robert Browning
275:The sad rhyme of the men who proudly clung To their first fault, and withered in their pride. ~ Robert Browning
276:Outside are the storms and strangers: we — Oh, close, safe, warm sleep I and she, — I and she! ~ Robert Browning
277:The aim, if reached or not, makes great the life: Try to be Shakespeare, leave the rest to fate! ~ Robert Browning
278:The heavens and earth stay as they were; my heart Beats as it beat: the truth remains the truth. ~ Robert Browning
279:The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land, Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength. ~ Robert Browning
280:T'was a thief said the last kind word to Christ. Christ took the kindness and forgave the theft. ~ Robert Browning
281:God is the perfect poet,  Who in his person acts his own creations. ~ Robert Browning, Paracelsus (1835), Part II
282:Desire joy and thank God for it. Renounce it, if need be, for other's sake. That's joy beyond joy. ~ Robert Browning
283:You never know what life means till you die; even throughout life, tis death that makes life live. ~ Robert Browning
284:It's wiser being good than bad; It's safer being meek than fierce: It's fitter being sane than mad. ~ Robert Browning
285:They are perfect; how else?-they shall never change: We are faulty; why not?-we have time in store. ~ Robert Browning
286:Truth is within ourselves. There is an inmost center in us all, where the truth abides in fullness. ~ Robert Browning
287:God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency. ~ Robert Browning
288:Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her- Next time, herself!-not the trouble behind her ~ Robert Browning
289:Shakespeare was of us, Milton was of us, Burns, Shelley, were with us. They watch from their graves! ~ Robert Browning
290:To do good things in the world, first you must know who you are and what gives meaning to your life. ~ Robert Browning
291:When I love most, love is disguised. In hate; and when hate is surprised, in love, then I hate most. ~ Robert Browning
292:What's the earth With all its art, verse, music, worth — Compared with love, found, gained, and kept? ~ Robert Browning
293:Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for? "Andrea del Sarto" by ROBERT BROWNING ~ Anonymous
294:Go practice if you please with men and women: leave a child alone for Christ's particular love's sake! ~ Robert Browning
295:Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware. ~ Robert Browning
296:What's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold. ~ Robert Browning
297:O woman-country! wooed not wed, Loved all the more by earth's male-lands, Laid to their hearts instead. ~ Robert Browning
298:Dear, dead women, with such hair, too--what's become of all the gold Used to hang and brush their bosoms? ~ Robert Browning
299:Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made ... ~ Robert Browning
300:What's the earth
With all its art, verse, music, worth —
Compared with love, found, gained, and kept? ~ Robert Browning
301:Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed As, God be thanked! I do not. ~ Robert Browning
302:If two lives join, there is oft a scar. They are one and one, with a shadowy third; One near one is too far. ~ Robert Browning
303:Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up. ~ Robert Browning
304:"With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart" once more! Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare he! ~ Robert Browning
305:But God has a few of us to whom he whispers in the ear; The rest may reason and welcome; 'tis we musicians know. ~ Robert Browning
306:I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God. ~ Robert Browning
307:We read Robert Browning's poetry. Here we needed no guidance from the professor: the poems themselves were enough. ~ Carl Sandburg
308:What if all's appearance? Is not outside seeming real as substance inside? Both are facts, so leave me dreaming. ~ Robert Browning
309:Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things. The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist. ~ Robert Browning
310:That we devote ourselves to God is seen  In living just as though no God there were. ~ Robert Browning, Paracelsus (1835), Part I
311:All service ranks the same with God,- With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we: there is no last nor first. ~ Robert Browning
312:The ultimate, angels' law, Indulging every instinct of the soul There where law, life, joy, impulse are one thing! ~ Robert Browning
313:We find great things are made of little things, And little things go lessening till at last Comes God behind them. ~ Robert Browning
314:And I have written three books on the soul, Proving absurd all written hitherto, And putting us to ignorance again. ~ Robert Browning
315:Love, hope, fear, faith—these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character —Robert Browning, Paracelsus ~ Cassandra Clare
316:How good is man's life, the mere living! How fit to employ all the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy! ~ Robert Browning
317:I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time. ~ Robert Browning
318:I give the fight up: let there be an end,
A privacy, an obscure nook for me.
I want to be forgotten even by God. ~ Robert Browning
319:Love, hope, fear, faith—these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character —Robert Browning, Paracelsus In ~ Cassandra Clare
320:Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph? ~ Robert Browning
321:I give the fight up: let there be an end,
A privacy, an obscure nook for me.
I want to be forgotten even by God. ~ Robert Browning
322:It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least. ~ Robert Browning
323:Of power does Man possess no particle: Of knowledge-just so much as show that still It ends in ignorance on every side. ~ Robert Browning
324:God made all the creatures and them our love and out fear,
To give sign, we and they are his children, one family here. ~ Robert Browning
325:This world's no blot for us,
Nor blank; it means intensely, and means good:
To find its meaning is my meat and drink. ~ Robert Browning
326:Go in thy native innocence, rely On what thou hast of virtue, summon all, For God towards thee hath done his part, do thine. ~ Robert Browning
327:We mortals cross the ocean of this world Each in his average cabin of a life; The bests not big, the worst yields elbowroom. ~ Robert Browning
328:In heaven I yearn for knowledge, account all else inanity; On earth I confess an itch for the praise of fools - that's vanity ~ Robert Browning
329:Just when we are safest, there's a sunset touch,
A fancy from a flower-bell, someone's death,
...
The grand Perhaps! ~ Robert Browning
330:Oh the wild joys of living! The leaping from rock to rock ... the cool silver shock of the plunge in a pool's living waters. ~ Robert Browning
331:It is the glory and good of Art
That Art remains the one way possible
Of speaking truth - to mouths like mine, at least. ~ Robert Browning
332:I find earth not gray but rosy;
Heaven not grim but fair of hue.
Do I stoop? I pluck a posy; Do I stand and stare? All's blue. ~ Robert Browning
333:What's come to perfection perishes. Things learned on earth we shall practice in heaven; Works done least rapidly Art most cherishes. ~ Robert Browning
334:When a man's busy, why leisure Strikes him as wonderful pleasure: 'Faith, and at leisure once is he? Straightway he wants to be busy. ~ Robert Browning
335:White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so; life's business being just the terrible choice. ~ Robert Browning
336:And inasmuch as feeling, the East's gift, Is quick and transient,- comes, and lo! is gone, While Northern thought is slow and durable. ~ Robert Browning
337:Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beast's; God is, they are, Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be. ~ Robert Browning
338:That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture! ~ Robert Browning
339:What if we still ride on, we two
With life for ever old yet new,
Changed not in kind but in degree,
The instant made eternity ~ Robert Browning
340:You call for faith: I show you doubt, to prove that faith exists. The more of doubt, the stronger faith, I say, If faith o'ercomes doubt. ~ Robert Browning
341:I was ever a fighter, so---one fight more, The best and the last! I would hate that death bandaged my eyes and forbore, and bade me creep past. ~ Robert Browning
342:When a man’s busy, why, leisure
Strikes him as wonderful pleasure:
‘Faith, and at leisure once is he?
Straightway he wants to be busy. ~ Robert Browning
343:The moment eternal - just that and no more - When ecstasy's utmost we clutch at the core While cheeks burn, arms open, eyes shut, and lips meet! ~ Robert Browning
344:All service is the same with God,  With God, whose puppets, best and worst,  Are we: there is no last nor first. ~ Robert Browning, Pippa Passes (1841), Part IV
345:Each life unfulfilled, you see; It hangs still, patchy and scrappy: We have not sighed deep, laughed free, Starved, feasted, despaired,—been happy. ~ Robert Browning
346:The power of the night, the press of the storm, the post of the foe; where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, yet, the strong man must go. ~ Robert Browning
347:What a name! Was it love or praise? Speech half-asleep or song half-awake? I must learn Spanish, one of these days, Only for that slow sweet name's sake. ~ Robert Browning
348:But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again. ~ Robert Browning
349:Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me (When fortune's malice Lost her Calais): "Open my heart, and you will see Graved inside of it 'Italy.'" ~ Robert Browning
350:One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph. ~ Robert Browning
351:A people is but the attempt of many To rise to the completer life of one; And those who live as models for the mass Are singly of more value than they all. ~ Robert Browning
352:The trouble that most of us find with the modern matched sets of clubs is that they don't really seem to know any more about the game than the old ones did. ~ Robert Browning
353:Though Rome's gross yoke Drops off, no more to be endured, Her teaching is not so obscured By errors and perversities, That no truth shines athwart the lies. ~ Robert Browning
354:Each life unfulfilled, you see;
It hangs still, patchy and scrappy:
We have not sighed deep, laughed free,
Starved, feasted, despaired,—been happy. ~ Robert Browning
355:My whole life long I learn'd to love,
This hour my utmost art I prove.
And speak my passion—— heaven or hell?
She will not give me heaven? 'Tis well! ~ Robert Browning
356:There are those who believe something, and therefore will tolerate nothing; and on the other hand, those who tolerate everything, because they believe nothing. ~ Robert Browning
357:I say, the acknowledgment of God in ChristAccepted by thy reason, solves for theeAll questions in the earth and out of it,And has so far advanced thee to be wise. ~ Robert Browning
358:Life with all it yields of joy and woe,
And hope and fear,
Is just our chance o’ the prize of learning love,
How love might be, hath been indeed, and is. ~ Robert Browning
359:What a name! Was it love or praise?
Speech half-asleep or song half-awake?
I must learn Spanish, one of these days,
Only for that slow sweet name's sake. ~ Robert Browning
360:Rhyme for a Child Viewing a Naked Venus in a Painting of “The Judgement of Paris”

He gazed and gazed and gazed and gazed,
Amazed, amazed, amazed, amazed. ~ Robert Browning
361:There are three ways of learning golf: by study, which is the most wearisome; by imitation, which is the most fallacious; and by experience, which is the most bitter. ~ Robert Browning
362:All we have gained then by our unbelief Is a life of doubt diversified by faith, For one of faith diversified by doubt: We called the chess-board white-we call it black. ~ Robert Browning
363:In this world, who can do a thing, will not; And who would do it, cannot, I perceive: Yet the will's somewhat — somewhat, too, the power — And thus we half-men struggle. ~ Robert Browning
364:I want to know a butcher paints, A baker rhymes for his pursuit, Candlestick-maker much acquaints His soul with song, or, haply mute, Blows out his brains upon the flute. ~ Robert Browning
365:Into the street the piper stepped, Smiling first a little smile As if he knew what magic slept In his quiet pipe the while. And the piper advanced And the children followed. ~ Robert Browning
366:Stand still, true poet that you are! I know you; let me try and draw you. Some night you'll fail us: when afar You rise, remember one man saw you, Knew you, and named a star! ~ Robert Browning
367:Are there not, dear Michael, Two points in the adventure of the diver,- One, when a beggar he prepares to plunge; One, when a prince he rises with his pearl? Festus, I plunge. ~ Robert Browning
368:Just when I seemed about to learn!
Where is the thread now? Off again!
The old trick! Only I discern -
Infinite passion, and the pain
Of finite hearts that yearn. ~ Robert Browning
369:In this world, who can do a thing, will not;
And who would do it, cannot, I perceive:
Yet the will's somewhat — somewhat, too, the power —
And thus we half-men struggle. ~ Robert Browning
370:For I say this is death and the sole death,- When a man's loss comes to him from his gain, Darkness from light, from knowledge ignorance, And lack of love from love made manifest. ~ Robert Browning
371:Truth is within ourselves…there is an inmost center in us all..where truth abides in fulness--and to know,rather consists in open out a way whence the imprisoned splendor may escape ~ Robert Browning
372:Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet. From the ripple to run over in its mirth ~ Robert Browning
373:Was there nought better than to enjoy? No feat which, done, would make time break, And let us pent-up creatures through Into eternity, our due? No forcing earth teach heaven's employ? ~ Robert Browning
374:When that passage was written only God and Robert Browning understood it. Now only God understands it. ~ Rudolf Besier, The Barretts of Wimpole Street (1932), act II, p. 66. Robert Browning is speaking.
375:The common problem, yours, mine, everyone's Is ? not to fancy what were fair in life Provided it could be ? but, finding first What may be, then find how to make it fair Up to our means. ~ Robert Browning
376:We shall march prospering,-not thro' his presence; Songs may inspirit us,-not from his lyre; Deeds will be done,-while he boasts his quiescence, Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire. ~ Robert Browning
377:What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew? No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets: May learn a thousand things, not twice the same. ~ Robert Browning
378:Pippa's Song The year's at the spring The day's at the morn Morning's at seven, The Hill side's dew-pearled The lark's on the wing The snail's on the thorn God's in his heaven- All's right with the world ~ Robert Browning
379:Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
One task more declin'd, one more foot-path ontrod,
One more devil's triumph and sorrow for angels,
One wrong more to man, one more insult to God! ~ Robert Browning
380:For thence a paradox Which comforts while it mocks, - Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail: What I aspired to be, And was not, comforts me: A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale. ~ Robert Browning
381:Oh, sir, she smiled, no doubt, Whene’er I passed her; but who passed without Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands; Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands As if alive. — Robert Browning ~ Patricia Evans
382:if my poetry classes taught me anything about this life, it's that you were the ted hughes to my sylvia plath & now he's the robert browning to my elizabeth barrett.- he dropkicked my heart back to life. ~ Amanda Lovelace
383:Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid! ~ Robert Browning
384:Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
  One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,
One more devils’-triumph and sorrow for angels,
  One wrong more to man, one more insult to God! ~ Robert Browning
385:For the preacher's merit or demerit, It were to be wished that the flaws were fewer In the earthen vessel, holding treasure, But the main thing is, does it hold good measure Heaven soon sets right all other matters! ~ Robert Browning
386:The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in His heaven—
All's right with the world! ~ Robert Browning
387:One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, sleep to wake. ~ Robert Browning
388:Say not "a small event!" Why "small"? Costs it more pain that this ye call A "great event" should come to pass From that? Untwine me from the mass Of deeds which make up life, one deed Power shall fall short in or exceed! ~ Robert Browning
389:There is an inmost center in us all, where truth abides in fullness;....and, to know, rather consists in opening out a way where the imprisoned splendor may escape, then in effecting entry for a light supposed to be without. ~ Robert Browning
390:Unless you can love, as the angels may, With the breadth of heaven betwixt you; Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, Through behoving and unbeloving; Unless you can die when the dream is past- Oh, never call it loving! ~ Robert Browning
391:I walked a mile with Pleasure; She chattered all the way. But left me none the wiser For all she had to say. I walked a mile with Sorrow And ne'er a word said she; But oh, the things I learned from her When Sorrow walked with me! ~ Robert Browning
392:Then welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe! ~ Robert Browning
393:There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with for evil so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round. ~ Robert Browning
394:The year's at the spring,
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearl'd;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in His heaven
All's right with the world!


~ Robert Browning, Pippas Song

395:Out of your whole life give but a moment! All of your life that has gone before, All to come after it, -so you ignore, So you make perfect the present, condense, In a rapture of rage, for perfection's endowment, Thought and feeling and soul and sense. ~ Robert Browning
396:The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low:
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand. ~ Robert Browning
397:It 's wiser being good than bad; It 's safer being meek than fierce; It 's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched; That after Last returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched. ~ Robert Browning
398:How he lies in his rights of a man! Death has done all death can. And absorbed in the new life he leads, He recks not, he heeds Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike On his senses alike, And are lost in the solemn and strange Surprise of the change. ~ Robert Browning
399:If you can sit at set of sun And count the deeds that you have done And counting find oneself-denying act, one word That eased the heart of him that heard. One glance most kind, Which fell like sunshine where he went, Then you may count that day well spent. ~ Robert Browning
400:So, I soberly laid my last plan
To extinguish the man.
Round his creep-hole, with never a break
Ran my fires for his sake;
Over-head, did my thunder combine
With my under-ground mine:
Till I looked from my labour content
To enjoy the event. ~ Robert Browning
401:O never star Was lost; here We all aspire to heaven and there is heaven Above us. If I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time; I press God's lamp Close to my breast; its splendor soon or late Will pierce the gloom. I shall emerge some day. ~ Robert Browning
402:I dare not so honor my mere wishes and prayers as to put them for a moment beside your noble acts; but this know, I would rather submit to the worst of deaths, so far as pain goes, than have a single dog or cat tortured on the pretence of sparing me a twinge or two. ~ Robert Browning
403:Out of your whole life give but a moment!
All of your life that has gone before,
All to come after it, -so you ignore,
So you make perfect the present, condense,
In a rapture of rage, for perfection's endowment,
Thought and feeling and soul and sense. ~ Robert Browning
404:I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive,- what time, what circuit first, I ask not; but unless God send his hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time. ~ Robert Browning
405:Glad was I when I reached the other bank.
Now for a better country. Vain presage!
Who were the strugglers, what war did they wage,
Whose savage trample thus could pad the dank
soil to a plash? Toads in a poisoned tank
Or wild cats in a red-hot iron cage- ~ Robert Browning
406:My first thought was, he lied in every word,
That hoary cripple, with malicious eye
Askance to watch the working of his lie
On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford
Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored
Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby. ~ Robert Browning
407:I write from a thorough conviction that it is the duty of me, and with the belief that, after every drawback and shortcoming, I do my best, all things considered--that is for me, and, so being, the not being listened to by one human creature would, I hope, in nowise affect me. ~ Robert Browning
408:we’re made so that we love First when we see them painted, things we have passed Perhaps a hundred times nor cared to see; And so they are better, painted – better to us, Which is the same thing. Art was given for that; God uses us to help each other so, Lending our minds out. ~ Robert Browning
409:Have you found your life distasteful?
My life did and does smack sweet.
Was your youth of pleasure wasteful?
Mine I save and hold complete.
Do your joys with age diminish?
When mine fail me, I'll complain.
Must in death your daylight finish?
My sun sets to rise again. ~ Robert Browning
410:I shut my eyes and turned them on my heart,
As a man calls for wine before he fights,
I asked one draught of earlier, happier sights,
Ere fitly I could hope to play my part.
Think first, fight afterwards, the soldier’s art:
One taste of the old time sets all to rights. ~ Robert Browning
411:For, looking up, aware I somehow grew,
’Spite of the dusk, the plain had given place
All round to mountains - with such name to grace
Mere ugly heights and heaps now stolen in view.
How thus they had surprised me - solve it, you!
How to get from them was no clearer case. ~ Robert Browning
412:I have no little insight into the feelings of furniture, and treat books and prints with a reasonable consideration. How some people use their pictures, for instance, is a mystery to me; very revolting all the same--portraits obliged to face each other for ever--prints put together in portfolios. ~ Robert Browning
413:The fight must so have seemed in that fell cirque,
What penned them there, with all the plain to choose?
No footprint leading to that horrid mews,
None out of it. Mad brewage set to work
Their brains, no doubt, like galley-slaves the Turk
Pits for his pastime, Christians against Jews. ~ Robert Browning
414:I trust in Nature for the stable laws Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant And Autumn garner to the end of time. I trust in God,-the right shall be the right And other than the wrong, while he endures. I trust in my own soul, that can perceive The outward and the inward,-Nature's good And God's. ~ Robert Browning
415:Atticus raised his eyebrows in warning. He watched his daughter’s daemon rise and dominate her: her eyebrows, like his, were lifted, the heavy-lidded eyes beneath them grew round, and one corner of her mouth was raised dangerously. When she looked thus, only God and Robert Browning knew what she was likely to say. ~ Harper Lee
416:For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements' rage, the fiend voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest! ~ Robert Browning
417:The rain set early in tonight, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its best to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up and all the cottage warm. ~ Robert Browning
418:For mark! no sooner was I fairly found
   Pledged to the plain, after a pace or two,
   Than, pausing to throw backward a last view
   O'er the safe road, 't was gone; gray plain all round:
   Nothing but plain to the horizon's bound.
   I might go on; nought else remain'd to do.
   ~ Robert Browning, from Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came,
419:Last night I saw you in my sleep:
And how your charm of face was changed!
I asked, 'Some love, some faith you keep?'
You answered, 'Faith gone, love estranged.'
Whereat I woke--- a twofold bliss:
Waking was one, but next there came
This other:"Though I felt, for this,
My heart break, I loved on the same. ~ Robert Browning
420:Robert Browning's childhood was passed in an unusually serene and happy home. In Development he tells how, at five years of age, he was made to understand the main facts of the Trojan War by his father's clever use of the cat, the dogs, the pony in the stable, and the page-boy, to impersonate the heroes of that ancient conflict. ~ Robert Browning
421:The rain set early in tonight,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its best to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up and all the cottage warm; ~ Robert Browning
422:Rats They fought the dogs and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles. Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats. ~ Robert Browning
423:How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark Autumn evenings come, And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue? With the music of all thy voices, dumb In life’s November too! I shall be found by the fire, suppose, O’er a great wise book as beseemeth age, While the shutters flap as the cross-wind blows, And I turn the page, and I turn the page, Not verse now, only prose! ~ Robert Browning
424:That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it: This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it. That low man goes on adding one to one, His hundred's soon hit: This high man, aiming at a million, Misses an unit. That, has the world here-should he need the next, Let the world mind him! This, throws himself on God, and unperplext Seeking shall find Him. ~ Robert Browning
425:Rats
They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
And bit the babies in the cradles,
And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles.
Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,
And even spoiled the women's chats
By drowning their speaking
With shrieking and squeaking
In fifty different sharps and flats. ~ Robert Browning
426:When the evening was over Alistair Cooke shook my hand goodbye and held it firmly, saying, ‘This hand you are shaking once shook the hand of Bertrand Russell.’ ‘Wow!’ I said, duly impressed. ‘No, no,’ said Cooke. ‘It goes further than that. Bertrand Russell knew Robert Browning. Bertrand Russell’s aunt danced with Napoleon. That’s how close we all are to history. Just a few handshakes away. Never forget that. ~ Anonymous
427:How well I know what I mean to do
When the long dark Autumn evenings come,
And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue?
With the music of all thy voices, dumb
In life’s November too!

I shall be found by the fire, suppose,
O’er a great wise book as beseemeth age,
While the shutters flap as the cross-wind blows,
And I turn the page, and I turn the page,
Not verse now, only prose! ~ Robert Browning
428:In 1845 — she (Elizabeth Barrett) was almost forty — she began corresponding with Robert Browning, and noted that what most people call love is really a kind of warfare, with one side enjoying all the strategic advantages. Again and again one sees "the growth of power on one side" and "the struggle against it, by means legal & illegal on the other." The best counterattack that women can mount is guerrilla warfare. ~ Peter Gay
429:When the evening was over Alistair Cooke shook my hand goodbye and held it firmly, saying, 'This hand you are shaking once shook the hand of Bertrand Russell.'
'Wow!' I said, duly impressed.
'No, No,' said Cooke, 'It goes further than that. Bertrand Russell knew Robert Browning. Bertrand Russell's aunt danced with Napoleon. That's how close we all are to history. Just a few handshakes away. Never forget that. ~ Stephen Fry
430:All the breath and the bloom of the year in the bag of one bee; All the wonder and wealth of the mine in the heart of one gem; In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea; Breath and bloom, shade and shine,- wonder, wealth, and-how far above them- Truth, that's brighter than gem, Truth, that's purer than pearl,- Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe- all were for me In the kiss of one girl. ~ Robert Browning
431:110And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,
Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,
    Families by tens and dozens,
Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives—
Followed the Piper for their lives.
From street to street he piped advancing, ~ Robert Browning
432:And if at whiles the bubble, blown too thin,
Seem nigh on bursting,—if you nearly see
The real world through the false,—what do you see?
Is the old so ruined? You find you ’re in a flock
O’ the youthful, earnest, passionate—genius, beauty,
Rank and wealth also, if you care for these:
And all depose their natural rights, hail you,
(That ’s me, sir) as their mate and yoke-fellow,
Participate in Sludgehood ~ Robert Browning
433:Paracelsus At times I almost dream I too have spent a life the sages’ way, And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance I perished in an arrogant self-reliance Ages ago; and in that act a prayer For one more chance went up so earnest, so Instinct with better light let in by death, That life was blotted out — not so completely But scattered wrecks enough of it remain, Dim memories, as now, when once more seems The goal in sight again. ~ Robert Browning
434:Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all!
Not for such hopes and fears
Annulling youth's brief years,
Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark!
Rather I prize the doubt
Low kinds exist without,
Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark.
Poor vaunt of life indeed,
Were man but formed to feed
On joy, to solely seek and find and feast;
Such feasting ended, then
As sure an end to men. ~ Robert Browning
435:... Such a scribe
you pay and praise for putting life in stones,
Fire into fog, making the past your world.
There's plenty of 'How did you contrive to grasp
The thread which led you through this labyrinth?
How build such solid fabric out of air?
How on so slight foundation found this tale,
Biography, narrative?' or, in other words,
How many lies did it require to make
The portly truth you here present us with? ~ Robert Browning
436:What does it all mean, poet? Well,
Your brains beat into rhythm, you tell
What we felt only; you expressed
You hold things beautiful the best,
And pace them in rhyme so, side by side.
‘Tis something, nay ‘tis much: but then,
Have you yourself what’s best for men?
Are you—-poor, sick, old ere your time—-
Nearer one whit your own sublime
Than we who never have turned a rhyme?
Sing, riding’s a joy! For me, I ride. ~ Robert Browning
437:All scientific work is incomplete—whether it be observational or experimental. All scientific work is liable to be upset or modified by advancing knowledge. That does not confer upon us a freedom to ignore the knowledge we already have, to postpone action that it appears to demand at a given time. Who knows, asks Robert Browning, but the world may end tonight? True, but on available evidence most of us make ready to commute on the 8:30 next day.9 ~ Naomi Oreskes
438:You'll love me yet!--and I can tarry
Your love's protracted growing:
June reared that bunch of flowers you carry,
From seeds of April's sowing.

I plant a heartful now: some seed
At least is sure to strike,
And yield--what you'll not pluck indeed,
Not love, but, may be, like.

You'll look at least on love's remains,
A grave's one violet:
Your look?--that pays a thousand pains.
What's death? You'll love me yet! ~ Robert Browning
439:Ever judge of men by their professions. For though the bright moment of promising is but a moment, and cannot be prolonged, yet if sincere in its moment's extravagant goodness, why, trust it, and know the man by it, I say,- not by his performance; which is half the world's work, interfere as the world needs must with its accidents and circumstances: the profession was purely the man's own. I judge people by what they might be,- not are, nor will be. ~ Robert Browning
440:That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly pure and good: I found A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily oped her lids: again Laughed the blue eyes without a stain. And I untightened the next tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss . . . ~ Robert Browning
441:There's a line in The Barretts of Wimpole Street - you know, the play - where Elizabeth Barrett is trying to work out the meaning of one of Robert Browning's poems, and she shows it to him, and he reads it and he tells her when he wrote that poem, only God and Robert Browning knew what it meant, and now only God knows. And that's how I feel about studying English. Who knows what the writer was thinking, and why should it matter? I'd rather just read for enjoyment. ~ Susanna Kearsley
442:Paracelsus

At times I almost dream
I too have spent a life the sages’ way,
And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance
I perished in an arrogant self-reliance
Ages ago; and in that act a prayer
For one more chance went up so earnest, so
Instinct with better light let in by death,
That life was blotted out — not so completely
But scattered wrecks enough of it remain,
Dim memories, as now, when once more seems
The goal in sight again. ~ Robert Browning
443:The death of a parent, he says to it, is a profoundly lifealtering experience, isn't it? When I was a child, I often had this feeling of God's in his Heaven: All's right with the world—that's Robert Browning. An English poet. But ever since my father died in the last war, I've awakened each morning knowing that I'll never again feel that absolute security. Nothing is ever quite right, is it, after a parent dies? No matter how well things go, something always feels slightly off... ~ Jenna Blum
444:You'll love me yet!and I can tarry
Your love's protracted growing:
June reared that bunch of flowers you carry
From seeds of April's sowing.

I plant a heartful now: some seed
At least is sure to strike,
And yieldwhat you'll not pluck indeed,
Not love, but, may be, like!

You'll look at least on love's remains,
A grave's one violet:
Your look?that pays a thousand pains.
What's death?You'll love me yet!


~ Robert Browning, Youll Love Me Yet

445:All, that I know
Of a certain star
Is, it can throw
(Like the angled spar)
Now a dart of red,
Now a dart of blue
Till my friends have said
They would fain see, too,
My star that dartles the red and the blue!
Then it stops like a bird; like a flower, hangs furled:
They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it.
What matter to me if their star is a world?
Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it.


~ Robert Browning, My Star

446:That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened the next tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss . . . ~ Robert Browning
447:Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away;
Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay;
Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;
In the dimmest North-east distance dawned Gibraltar grand and grey;
"Here and here did England help me: how can I help England?" -say,
Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray,
While Jove's planet rises yonder, silent over Africa.


~ Robert Browning, Home Thoughts, from the Sea

448:I hear you reproach, "But delay was best, For their end was a crime." Oh, a crime will do As well, I reply, to serve for a test As a virtue golden through and through, Sufficient to vindicate itself And prove its worth at a moment's view! . . . . . . Let a man contend to the uttermost For his life's set prize, be it what it will! The counter our lovers staked was lost As surely as if it were lawful coin; And the sin I impute to each frustrate ghost Is-the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin, Though the end in sight was a vice, I say. ~ Robert Browning
449:I.

Nay but you, who do not love her,
Is she not pure gold, my mistress?
Holds earth aught-speak truth-above her?
Aught like this tress, see, and this tress,
And this last fairest tress of all,
So fair, see, ere I let it fall?

II.

Because, you spend your lives in praising;
To praise, you search the wide world over:
Then why not witness, calmly gazing,
If earth holds aught-speak truth-above her?
Above this tress, and this, I touch
But cannot praise, I love so much!


~ Robert Browning, Song

450:I.
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed in the slushy sand.

II.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!


~ Robert Browning, Meeting At Night

451:Ah, did you once see Shelley plain,
And did he stop and speak to you
And did you speak to him again?
How strange it seems and new!

But you were living before that,
And also you are living after;
And the memory I started at-
My starting moves your laughter.

I crossed a moor, with a name of its own
And a certain use in the world no doubt,
Yet a hand's-breadth of it shines alone
'Mid the blank miles round about:

For there I picked up on the heather
And there I put inside my breast
A moulted feather, an eagle-feather!
Well, I forget the rest.


~ Robert Browning, Memorabilia

452:Now dumb is he who waked the world to speak, And voiceless hangs the world beside his bier, Our words are sobs, our cry or praise a tear: We are the smitten mortal, we the weak. We see a spirit on earth's loftiest peak Shine, and wing hence the way he makes more clear: See a great Tree of Life that never sere Dropped leaf for aught that age or storms might wreak; Such ending is not death: such living shows What wide illumination brightness sheds From one big heart,—to conquer man's old foes: The coward, and the tyrant, and the force Of all those weedy monsters raising heads When Song is muck from springs of turbid source. —G EORGE M EREDITH. ~ Robert Browning
453:"Why?" Because all I haply can and do,
All that I am now, all I hope to be,
Whence comes it save from fortune setting free
Body and soul the purpose to pursue,
God traced for both? If fetters, not a few,
Of prejudice, convention, fall from me,
These shall I bid meneach in his degree
Also God-guidedbear, and gayly, too?

But little do or can the best of us:
That little is achieved through Liberty.
Who, then, dares hold, emancipated thus,
His fellow shall continue bound? Not I,
Who live, love, labour freely, nor discuss
A brother's right to freedom. That is "Why."


~ Robert Browning, Why I Am a Liberal

454:Take the cloak from his face, and at first
Let the corpse do its worst!

How he lies in his rights of a man!
Death has done all death can.
And, absorbed in the new life he leads,
He recks not, he heeds
Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike
On his senses alike,
And are lost in the solemn and strange
Surprise of the change.
Ha, what avails death to erase
His offence, my disgrace?
I would we were boys as of old
In the field, by the fold:
His outrage, God's patience, man's scorn
Were so easily borne!

I stand here now, he lies in his place:
Cover the face!


~ Robert Browning, After

455:I love to read, but all through school I hated it when books were pulled apart and analyzed. Winnie-the-pooh as a political allegory, that sort of thing. It never really worked for me. There's a line in The Barretts of Wimpole Street - you know, the play - where Elizabeth Barrett is trying to work out the meaning of one of Robert Browning's poems, and she shows it to him, and he reads it and he tells her that when he wrote that poem, only God and Robert Browning knew what it meant and now only God knows. And that's how I feel about studying English. Who knows what the writer was thinking, and why should it matter? I'd rather just read for enjoyment."

'The Winter Sea ~ Susanna Kearsley
456:All June, I bound the rose in sheaves.
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves,
And strew them where Pauline may pass.
She will not turn aside? Alas!
Let them lie. Suppose they die?
The chance was they might take her eye.

How many a month I strove to suit
These stubborn fingers to the lute!
To-day I venture all I know.
She will not hear my music? So!
Break the string -- fold music's wing.
Suppose Pauline had bade me sing!

My whole life long I learned to love. This hour my utmost art I prove And speak my passion. -- Heaven or hell? She will not give me heaven? 'Tis well! Lose who may -- I still can say, Those who win heaven, blest are they. ~ Robert Browning
457:FAME.

See, as the prettiest graves will do in time,
Our poet's wants the freshness of its prime;
Spite of the sexton's browsing horse, the sods
Have struggled through its binding osier rods;
Headstone and half-sunk footstone lean awry,
Wanting the brick-work promised by-and-by;
How the minute grey lichens, plate o'er plate,
Have softened down the crisp-cut name and date!

LOVE.

So, the year's done with
(Love me for ever!)
All March begun with,
April's endeavour;
May-wreaths that bound me
June needs must sever;
Now snows fall round me,
Quenching June's fever-
(Love me for ever!)


~ Robert Browning, Earth's Immortalities

458:Out of your whole life give but a moment!
All of your life that has gone before,
All to come after it, so you ignore,
So you make perfect the present, condense,
In a rapture of rage, for perfection's endowment,
Thought and feeling and soul and sense,
Merged in a moment which gives me at last
You around me for once, you beneath me, above me
Me, sure that, despite of time future, time past,
This tick of life-time's one moment you love me!
How long such suspension may linger? Ah, Sweet,
The moment eternal just that and no more
When ecstasy's utmost we clutch at the core,
While cheeks burn, arms open, eyes shut, and lips meet!


~ Robert Browning, Now!

459:I.

Room after room,
I hunt the house through
We inhabit together.
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her-
Next time, herself!-not the trouble behind her
Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume!
As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew:
Yon looking-glass gleaned at the wave of her feather.

II.

Yet the day wears,
And door succeeds door;
I try the fresh fortune-
Range the wide house from the wing to the centre.
Still the same chance! She goes out as I enter.
Spend my whole day in the quest,-who cares?
But 'tis twilight, you see,-with such suites to explore,
Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!


~ Robert Browning, Love In A Life

460:I.

All June I bound the rose in sheaves.
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves
And strew them where Pauline may pass.
She will not turn aside? Alas!
Let them lie. Suppose they die?
The chance was they might take her eye.

II.

How many a month I strove to suit
These stubborn fingers to the lute!
To-day I venture all I know.
She will not hear my music? So!
Break the string; fold music's wing:
Suppose Pauline had bade me sing!

III.

My whole life long I learned to love.
This hour my utmost art I prove
And speak my passion-heaven or hell?
She will not give me heaven? 'Tis well!
Lose who may-I still can say,
Those who win heaven, blest are they!


~ Robert Browning, One Way Of Love

461:Life In Love

Escape me?
Never---
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you,
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth
While the one eludes, must the other pursue.
My life is a fault at last, I fear:
It seems too much like a fate, indeed!
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed.
But what if I fail of my purpose here?
It is but to keep the nerves at strain,
To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,
And, baffled, get up and begin again,---
So the chace takes up one's life ' that's all.
While, look but once from your farthest bound
At me so deep in the dust and dark,
No sooner the old hope goes to ground
Than a new one, straight to the self-same mark,
I shape me---
Ever
Removed! ~ Robert Browning
462:Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth,
  This autumn morning! How he sets his bones
To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet
For the ripple to run over in its mirth;
  Listening the while, where on the heap of stones
The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet.
That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true;
  Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows.
If you loved only what were worth your love,
Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you:
  Make the low nature better by your throes!
Give earth yourself, go up for gain above!
Composition date is unknown - the above date represents the first publication date.
The lyrical form of this poem is abcabc.



~ Robert Browning, Among The Rocks

463:Escape me?
Never-
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you,
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth
While the one eludes, must the other pursue.
My life is a fault at last, I fear:
It seems too much like a fate, indeed!
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed.
But what if I fail of my purpose here?
It is but to keep the nerves at strain,
To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,
And, baffled, get up and begin again,-
So the Chase takes up one's life ' that's all.
While, look but once from your farthest bound
At me so deep in the dust and dark,
No sooner the old hope goes to ground
Than a new one, straight to the self-same mark,
I shape me-
Ever
Removed!


~ Robert Browning, Life In A Love

464:I CALL on those that call me son,
Grandson, or great-grandson,
On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts,
To judge what I have done.
Have I, that put it into words,
Spoilt what old loins have sent?
Eyes spiritualised by death can judge,
I cannot, but I am not content.
He that in Sligo at Drumcliff
Set up the old stone Cross,
That red-headed rector in County Down,
A good man on a horse,
Sandymount Corbets, that notable man
Old William pollexfen,
The smuggler Middleton, Butlers far back,
Half legendary men.
Infirm and aged I might stay
In some good company,
I who have always hated work,
Smiling at the sea,
Or demonstrate in my own life
What Robert Browning meant
By an old hunter talking with Gods;
But I am not content.

~ William Butler Yeats, Are You Content?

465:Bhagat Singh revered Lajpat Rai as a leader. But he would not spare even Lajpat Rai, when, during the last years of his life, Lajpat Rai turned to communal politics. He then launched a political-ideological campaign against him. Because Lajpat Rai was a respected leader, he would not publicly use harsh words of criticism against him. And so he printed as a pamphlet Robert Browning’s famous poem, ‘The Lost Leader,’ in which Browning criticizes Wordsworth for turning against liberty. The poem begins with the line ‘Just for a handful of silver he left us.’ A few more of the poem’s lines were:
‘We shall march prospering, not thro’ his presence;
Songs may inspirit us, not from his lyre,’ and
‘Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more.’

There was not one word of criticism of Lajpat Rai. Only, on the front cover, he printed Lajpat Rai’s photograph! ~ Bipan Chandra
466:I.

All's over, then: does truth sound bitter
As one at first believes?
Hark, 'tis the sparrows' good-night twitter
About your cottage eaves!

II.

And the leaf-buds on the vine are woolly,
I noticed that, to-day;
One day more bursts them open fully
-You know the red turns grey.

III.

To-morrow we meet the same then, dearest?
May I take your hand in mine?
Mere friends are we,-well, friends the merest
Keep much that I resign:

IV.

For each glance of the eye so bright and black,
Though I keep with heart's endeavour,-
Your voice, when you wish the snowdrops back,
Though it stay in my soul for ever!-

V.

Yet I will but say what mere friends say,
Or only a thought stronger;
I will hold your hand but as long as all may,
Or so very little longer!


~ Robert Browning, The Lost Mistress

467:Tis solace making baubles, ay, and sport.
Himself peeped late, eyed Prosper at his books
Careless and lofty, lord now of the isle:
Vexed, 'stitched a book of broad leaves, arrow-shaped,
Wrote thereon, he knows what, prodigious words;
Has peeled a wand and called it by a name;
Weareth at whiles for an enchanter's robe
The eyed skin of a supple oncelot;
And hath an ounce sleeker than youngling mole,
A four-legged serpent he makes cower and couch,
Now snarl, now hold its breath and mind his eye,
And saith she is Miranda and my wife:
'Keeps for his Ariel a tall pouch-bill crane
He bids go wade for fish and straight disgorge;
Also a sea-beast, lumpish, which he snared,
Blinded the eyes of, and brought somewhat tame,
And split its toe-webs, and now pens the drudge
In a hole o' the rock and calls him Caliban;
A bitter heart that bides its time and bites. ~ Robert Browning
468:No sketches first, no studies, that's long past:
I do what many dream of, all their lives,
--Dream? strive to do, and agonize to do,
And fail in doing. I could count twenty such
On twice your fingers, and not leave this town,
Who strive--you don't know how the others strive
To paint a little thing like that you smeared
Carelessly passing with your robes afloat,--
Yet do much less, so much less, Someone says,
(I know his name, no matter)--so much less!
Well, less is more, Lucrezia: I am judged.
There burns a truer light of God in them,
In their vexed beating stuffed and stopped-up brain,
Heart, or whate'er else, than goes on to prompt
This low-pulsed forthright craftsman's hand of mine.
Their works drop groundward, but themselves, I know,
Reach many a time a heaven that's shut to me,
Enter and take their place there sure enough,
Though they come back and cannot tell the world. ~ Robert Browning
469:I.

Dear, had the world in its caprice
Deigned to proclaim ``I know you both,
``Have recognized your plighted troth,
Am sponsor for you: live in peace!''-
How many precious months and years
Of youth had passed, that speed so fast,
Before we found it out at last,
The world, and what it fears?

II.

How much of priceless life were spent
With men that every virtue decks,
And women models of their sex,
Society's true ornament,-
Ere we dared wander, nights like this,
Thro' wind and rain, and watch the Seine,
And feel the Boulevart break again
To warmth and light and bliss?

III.

I know! the world proscribes not love;
Allows my finger to caress
Your lips' contour and downiness,
Provided it supply a glove.
The world's good word!-the Institute!
Guizot receives Montalembert!
Eh? Down the court three lampions flare:
Put forward your best foot!


~ Robert Browning, Respectability

470:Never the time and the place
   And the loved one all together!
This pathhow soft to pace!
   This Maywhat magic weather!
Where is the loved one's face?
In a dream that loved one's face meets mine,
   But the house is narrow, the place is bleak
Where, outside, rain and wind combine
   With a furtive ear, if I strive to speak,
   With a hostile eye at my flushing cheek,
With a malice that marks each word, each sign!
O enemy sly and serpentine,
Uncoil thee from the waking man!
   Do I hold the Past
   Thus firm and fast
Yet doubt if the Future hold I can?
This path so soft to pace shall lead
Thro' the magic of May to herself indeed!
Or narrow if needs the house must be,
Outside are the storms and strangers: we
Oh, close, safe, warm sleep I and she,
I and she!
NOTES



Form:
irregularly rhyming



~ Robert Browning, Never the Time and the Place

471:The poet Robert Browning caused considerable consternation by including the word twat in one of his poems, thinking it an innocent term. The work was Pippa Passes, written in 1841 and now remembered for the line "God's in His heaven, all's right with the world." But it also contains this disconcerting passage:

Then owls and bats

Cowls and twats

Monks and nuns in a cloister's moods,

Adjourn to the oak-stump pantry!

Browning had apparently somewhere come across the word twat--which meant precisely the same then as it does now--but pronounced it with a flat a and somehow took it to mean a piece of headgear for nuns. The verse became a source of twittering amusement for generations of schoolboys and a perennial embarrassment to their elders, but the word was never altered and Browning was allowed to live out his life in wholesome ignorance because no one could think of a suitably delicate way of explaining his mistake to him. ~ Bill Bryson
472:``Give'' and ``It-shall-be-given-unto-you.''

I.

Grand rough old Martin Luther
Bloomed fables-flowers on furze,
The better the uncouther:
Do roses stick like burrs?

II.

A beggar asked an alms
One day at an abbey-door,
Said Luther; but, seized with qualms,
The abbot replied, ``We're poor!

III.

``Poor, who had plenty once,
``When gifts fell thick as rain:
``But they give us nought, for the nonce,
``And how should we give again?''

IV.

Then the beggar, ``See your sins!
``Of old, unless I err,
``Ye had brothers for inmates, twins,
``Date and Dabitur.

V.

``While Date was in good case
``Dabitur flourished too:
``For Dabitur's lenten face
``No wonder if Date rue.

VI.

``Would ye retrieve the one?
``Try and make plump the other!
``When Date's penance is done,
``Dabitur helps his brother.

VII.

``Only, beware relapse!''
The Abbot hung his head.
This beggar might be perhaps
An angel, Luther said.


~ Robert Browning, The Twins

473:I.

Let's contend no more, Love,
Strive nor weep:
All be as before, Love,
-Only sleep!

II.

What so wild as words are?
I and thou
In debate, as birds are,
Hawk on bough!

III.

See the creature stalking
While we speak!
Hush and hide the talking,
Cheek on cheek!

IV.

What so false as truth is,
False to thee?
Where the serpent's tooth is
Shun the tree-

V.

Where the apple reddens
Never pry-
Lest we lose our Edens,
Eve and I.

VI.

Be a god and hold me
With a charm!
Be a man and fold me
With thine arm!

VII.

Teach me, only teach, Love
As I ought
I will speak thy speech, Love,
Think thy thought-

VIII.

Meet, if thou require it,
Both demands,
Laying flesh and spirit
In thy hands.

IX.

That shall be to-morrow
Not to-night:
I must bury sorrow
Out of sight:

X

-Must a little weep, Love,
(Foolish me!)
And so fall asleep, Love,
Loved by thee.

192
~ Robert Browning, A Womans Last Word

474:Round the cape of a sudden came the sea,
And the sun looked over the mountain's rim:
And straight was a path of gold for him,
And the need of a world of men for me.

Like (1) 0
Home-Thoughts, From Abroad
I.

Oh, to be in England
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England-now!!

II.

And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops-at the bent spray's edge-
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower
-Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!


~ Robert Browning, Parting At Morning

475:I.
I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me who knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!

II.
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream
The champak odors fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart;
As I must on thine,
Oh, beloved as thou art!

III.
O lift me from the grass!
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast;
Oh! press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last.
Published, with the title, "Song written for an Indian Air", in "The Liberal", 2, 1822. Reprinted ("Lines to an Indian Air") by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824. The poem is included in the Harvard manuscript book, and there is a description by Robert Browning of an autograph copy presenting some variations from the text of 1824.

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Indian Serenade

476:O' Lyric Love, half angel and half bird,
And all a wonder and a wild desire,
Boldest of hearts that ever braved the sun,
Took sanctuary within the holier blue,
And sang a kindred soul out to his face,
Yet human at the red-ripe of the heart
When the first summons from the darkling earth
Reached thee amid thy chambers, blanched their blue,
And bared them of the gloryto drop down,
To toil for man, to suffer or to die,
This is the same voice: can thy soul know change?
Hail then, and hearken from the realms of help!
Never may I commence my song, my due
To God who best taught song by gift of thee,
Except with bent head and beseeching hand
That still, despite the distance and the dark,
What was, again may be; some interchange
Of grace, some splendor once thy very thought,
Some benediction anciently thy smile:
Never conclude, but raising hand and head
Thither where eyes, that cannot reach, yet yearn
For all hope, all sustainment, all reward,
Their upmost up and on,so blessing back
In those thy realms of help, that heaven thy home,
Some whiteness which, I judge, thy face makes proud,
Some wanness where, I think, thy foot may fall!


~ Robert Browning, O Lyric Love

477:I.

June was not over
   Though past the fall,
And the best of her roses
   Had yet to blow,
   When a man I know
(But shall not discover,
   Since ears are dull,
And time discloses)
Turned him and said with a man's true air,
Half sighing a smile in a yawn, as 'twere,-
``If I tire of your June, will she greatly care?''

II.

Well, dear, in-doors with you!
   True! serene deadness
Tries a man's temper.
   What's in the blossom
   June wears on her bosom?
Can it clear scores with you?
   Sweetness and redness.
Eadem semper!
Go, let me care for it greatly or slightly!
If June mend her bower now, your hand left unsightly
By plucking the roses,-my June will do rightly.

III.

And after, for pastime,
   If June be refulgent
With flowers in completeness,
   All petals, no prickles,
   Delicious as trickles
Of wine poured at mass-time,-
   And choose One indulgent
To redness and sweetness:
Or if, with experience of man and of spider,
June use my June-lightning, the strong insect-ridder,
And stop the fresh film-work,-why, June will consider.


~ Robert Browning, Another Way Of Love

478:Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,
  Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing:
  And, pressing a troop unable to stoop
  And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop,
  Marched them along, fifty score strong,
  Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
  God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
  To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!
  Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup
Till you're

   (Chorus)
    Marching along, fifty-score strong,
    Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

  Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell.
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here

   (Chorus)
    Marching along, fifty-score strong,
    Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?

  Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,

   (Chorus)
    March we along, fifty-score strong,
    Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!


~ Robert Browning, A Cavalier Song

479:In these red labyrinths of London
I find that I have chosen
the strangest of all callings,
save that, in its way, any calling is strange.
Like the alchemist
who sought the philosopher's stone
in quicksilver,
I shall make everyday words
the gambler's marked cards, the common coin
give off the magic that was their
when Thor was both the god and the din,
the thunderclap and the prayer.
In today's dialect
I shall say, in my fashion, eternal things:
I shall try to be worthy
of the great echo of Byron.
This dust that I am will be invulnerable.
If a woman shares my love
my verse will touch the tenth sphere of the concentric heavens;
if a woman turns my love aside
I will make of my sadness a music,
a full river to resound through time.
I shall live by forgetting myself.
I shall be the face I glimpse and forget,
I shall be Judas who takes on
the divine mission of being a betrayer,
I shall be Caliban in his bog,
I shall be a mercenary who dies
without fear and without faith,
I shall be Polycrates, who looks in awe
upon the seal returned by fate.
I will be the friend who hates me.
The persian will give me the nightingale, and Rome the sword.
Masks, agonies, resurrections
will weave and unweave my life,
and in time I shall be Robert Browning.

~ Jorge Luis Borges, Browning Decides To Be A Poet

480:AN OLD STORY.

I.

It was roses, roses, all the way,
With myrtle mixed in my path like mad:
The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway,
The church-spires flamed, such flags they had,
A year ago on this very day.

II.

The air broke into a mist with bells,
The old walls rocked with the crowd and cries.
Had I said, ``Good folk, mere noise repels-
But give me your sun from yonder skies!''
They had answered, ``And afterward, what else?''

III.

Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun
To give it my loving friends to keep!
Nought man could do, have I left undone:
And you see my harvest, what I reap
This very day, now a year is run.

IV.

There's nobody on the house-tops now-
Just a palsied few at the windows set;
For the best of the sight is, all allow,
At the Shambles' Gate-or, better yet,
By the very scaffold's foot, I trow.

V.

I go in the rain, and, more than needs,
A rope cuts both my wrists behind;
And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,
For they fling, whoever has a mind,
Stones at me for my year's misdeeds.

VI.

Thus I entered, and thus I go!
In triumphs, people have dropped down dead.
``Paid by the world, what dost thou owe
``Me?''-God might question; now instead,
'Tis God shall repay: I am safer so.


~ Robert Browning, The Patriot

481:What is he buzzing in my ears?
   "Now that I come to die,
Do I view the world as a vale of tears?"
   Ah, reverend sir, not I!

  What I viewed there once, what I view again
   Where the physic bottles stand
On the table's edge,is a suburb lane,
   With a wall to my bedside hand.

  That lane sloped, much as the bottles do,
  From a house you could descry
O'er the garden-wall; is the curtain blue
  Or green to a healthy eye?

To mine, it serves for the old June weather
  Blue above lane and wall;
And that farthest bottle labelled "Ether"
  Is the house o'ertopping all.

At a terrace, somewhere near the stopper,
  There watched for me, one June,
A girl: I know, sir, it's improper,
  My poor mind's out of tune.

Only, there was a way you crept
  Close by the side, to dodge
Eyes in the house, two eyes except:
  They styled their house "The Lodge."

What right had a lounger up their lane?
  But, by creeping very close,
With the good wall's help,their eyes might strain
  And stretch themselves to Oes,

Yet never catch her and me together,
  As she left the attic, there,
By the rim of the bottle labelled "Ether,"
  And stole from stair to stair,

And stood by the rose-wreathed gate. Alas,
  We loved, sirused to meet:
How sad and bad and mad it was
  But then, how it was sweet!
  


~ Robert Browning, Confessions

482:I.

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon:
A mile or so away,
On a little mound, Napoleon
Stood on our storming-day;
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,
Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone brow
Oppressive with its mind.

II.

Just as perhaps he mused ``My plans
``That soar, to earth may fall,
``Let once my army-leader Lannes
``Waver at yonder wall,''-
Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew
A rider, bound on bound
Full-galloping; nor bridle drew
Until he reached the mound.

III.

Then off there flung in smiling joy,
And held himself erect
By just his horse's mane, a boy:
You hardly could suspect-
(So tight he kept his lips compressed,
Scarce any blood came through)
You looked twice ere you saw his breast
Was all but shot in two.

IV.

``Well,'' cried he, ``Emperor, by God's grace
``We've got you Ratisbon!
``The Marshal's in the market-place,
``And you'll be there anon
``To see your flag-bird flap his vans
``Where I, to heart's desire,
``Perched him!'' The chief's eye flashed; his plans
Soared up again like fire.

V.

The chief's eye flashed; but presently
Softened itself, as sheathes
A film the mother-eagle's eye
When her bruised eaglet breathes;
``You're wounded!'' ``Nay,'' the soldier's pride
Touched to the quick, he said:
``I'm killed, Sire!'' And his chief beside
Smiling the boy fell dead.


~ Robert Browning, Incident Of The French Camp

483:I.

So, I shall see her in three days
And just one night, but nights are short,
Then two long hours, and that is morn.
See how I come, unchanged, unworn!
Feel, where my life broke off from thine,
How fresh the splinters keep and fine,-
Only a touch and we combine!

II.

Too long, this time of year, the days!
But nights, at least the nights are short.
As night shows where ger one moon is,
A hand's-breadth of pure light and bliss,
So life's night gives my lady birth
And my eyes hold her! What is worth
The rest of heaven, the rest of earth?

III.

O loaded curls, release your store
Of warmth and scent, as once before
The tingling hair did, lights and darks
Outbreaking into fairy sparks,
When under curl and curl I pried
After the warmth and scent inside,
Thro' lights and darks how manifold-
The dark inspired, the light controlled
As early Art embrowns the gold.

IV.

What great fear, should one say, ``Three days
``That change the world might change as well
``Your fortune; and if joy delays,
``Be happy that no worse befell!''
What small fear, if another says,
``Three days and one short night beside
``May throw no shadow on your ways;
``But years must teem with change untried,
``With chance not easily defied,
``With an end somewhere undescried.''
No fear!-or if a fear be born
This minute, it dies out in scorn.
Fear? I shall see her in three days
And one night, now the nights are short,
Then just two hours, and that is morn.


~ Robert Browning, In Three Days

484:I.

Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat-
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allowed:
How all our copper had gone for his service!
Rags-were they purple, his heart had been proud!
We that had loved him so, followed him, honoured him,
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,
Learned his great language, caught his clear accents,
Made him our pattern to live and to die!
Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us,
Burns, Shelley, were with us,-they watch from their graves!
He alone breaks from the van and the free-men,
-He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves!

II.

We shall march prospering,-not thro' his presence;
Songs may inspirit us,-not from his lyre;
Deeds will be done,-while he boasts his quiescence,
Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire:
Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,
One task more declined, one more foot-path untrod,
One more devils'-triumph and sorrow for angels,
One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
Life's night begins: let him never come back to us!
There would be doubt, hesitation and pain,
Forced praise on our part-the glimmer of twilight,
Never glad confident morning again!
Best fight on well, for we taught him-strike gallantly,
Menace our heart ere we master his own;
Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,
Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne!


~ Robert Browning, The Lost Leader

485:Fear death?to feel the fog in my throat,
    The mist in my face,
  When the snows begin, and the blasts denote
    I am nearing the place,
  The power of the night, the press of the storm,
    The post of the foe;
  Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form,
    Yet the strong man must go:
  For the journey is done and the summit attained,
   And the barriers fall,
Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained,
   The reward of it all.
I was ever a fighter, soone fight more,
   The best and the last!
I would hate that death bandaged my eyes and forbore,
   And bade me creep past.
No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers
   The heroes of old,
Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears
   Of pain, darkness and cold.
For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave,
   The black minute's at end,
And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave,
   Shall dwindle, shall blend,
Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain,
   Then a light, then thy breast,
O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again,
   And with God be the rest!
1.
Written in the autumn of 1861, a few months after Mrs.
Browning's death. First published in the Atlantic Monthly
of June 1864 ; also in Men and Women, 1864.

Prospice: the Latin imperative of prospicio.
look forward, look ahead.
7.
The Arch Fear: Death.
15.
bandaged: a reference to the practice of bandaging the
eyes of those who are to be executed by shooting.
19.
arrears: Browning implies that he has had less of


~ Robert Browning, Prospice

486:I.

Your ghost will walk, you lover of trees,
(If our loves remain)
In an English lane,
By a cornfield-side a-flutter with poppies.
Hark, those two in the hazel coppice-
A boy and a girl, if the good fates please,
Making love, say,-
The happier they!
Draw yourself up from the light of the moon,
And let them pass, as they will too soon,
With the bean-flowers' boon,
And the blackbird's tune,
And May, and June!

II.

What I love best in all the world
Is a castle, precipice-encurled,
In a gash of the wind-grieved Apennine
Or look for me, old fellow of mine,
(If I get my head from out the mouth
O' the grave, and loose my spirit's bands,
And come again to the land of lands)-
In a sea-side house to the farther South,
Where the baked cicala dies of drouth,
And one sharp tree-'tis a cypress-stands,
By the many hundred years red-rusted,
Rough iron-spiked, ripe fruit-o'ercrusted,
My sentinel to guard the sands
To the water's edge. For, what expands
Before the house, but the great opaque
Blue breadth of sea without a break?
While, in the house, for ever crumbles
Some fragment of the frescoed walls,
From blisters where a scorpion sprawls.
A girl bare-footed brings, and tumbles
Down on the pavement, green-flesh melons,
And says there's news to-day-the king
Was shot at, touched in the liver-wing,
Goes with his Bourbon arm in a sling:
-She hopes they have not caught the felons.
Italy, my Italy!
Queen Mary's saying serves for me-
(When fortune's malice
Lost her-Calais)-
Open my heart and you will see
Graved inside of it, ``Italy.''
Such lovers old are I and she:
So it always was, so shall ever be!


~ Robert Browning, De Gustibus

487:I.

My heart sank with our Claret-flask,
Just now, beneath the heavy sedges
That serve this Pond's black face for mask
And still at yonder broken edges
O' the hole, where up the bubbles glisten,
After my heart I look and listen.

II.

Our laughing little flask, compelled
Thro' depth to depth more bleak and shady;
As when, both arms beside her held,
Feet straightened out, some gay French lady
Is caught up from life's light and motion,
And dropped into death's silent ocean!

-

Up jumped Tokay on our table,
Like a pygmy castle-warder,
Dwarfish to see, but stout and able,
Arms and accoutrements all in order;
And fierce he looked North, then, wheeling South,
Blew with his bugle a challenge to Drouth,
Cocked his flap-hat with the tosspot-feather,
Twisted his thumb in his red moustache,
Jingled his huge brass spurs together,
Tightened his waist with its Buda sash,
And then, with an impudence nought could abash,
Shrugged his hump-shoulder, to tell the beholder,
For twenty such knaves he should laugh but the bolder:
And so, with his sword-hilt gallantly jutting,
And dexter-hand on his haunch abutting,
Went the little man, Sir Ausbruch, strutting!

-

Here's to Nelson's memory!
'Tis the second time that I, at sea,
Right off Cape Trafalgar here,
Have drunk it deep in British Beer.
Nelson for ever-any time
Am I his to command in prose or rhyme!
Give me of Nelson only a touch,
And I save it, be it little or much:
Here's one our Captain gives, and so
Down at the word, by George, shall it go!
He says that at Greenwich they point the beholder
To Nelson's coat, ``still with tar on the shoulder:
``For he used to lean with one shoulder digging,
``Jigging, as it were, and zig-zag-zigging
``Up against the mizen-rigging!''


~ Robert Browning, Nationality In Drinks

488:O thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind,
Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist
And the black elm tops 'mong the freezing stars,
To thee the spring will be a harvest-time.
O thou, whose only book has been the light
Of supreme darkness which thou feddest on
Night after night when Phoebus was away,
To thee the Spring shall be a triple morn.
O fret not after knowledge -- I have none,
And yet my song comes native with the warmth.
O fret not after knowledge -- I have none,
And yet the Evening listens. He who saddens
At thought of idleness cannot be idle,
And he's awake who thinks himself asleep.
'In an undated letter to Reynolds bearing the postmark "Hampstead, Feb. 19, 1818" (Life, Letters &c., 1848, Volume 1, page 87), occurs the passage --

"I was led into these thoughts, my dear Reynolds, by the beauty of the morning operating on a sense of idleness. I have not read any books -- the morning said I was right -- I had no idea but of the morning, and the thrush said I was right, seeming to say,"--

and these fourteen lines of blank verse follow immediately on the word 'say', so that the title I have ventured to give to the lines accords at all events with the facts. Keats seems to have been really writing in a kind of spiritual parallelism with the thrush's song : it will be noted that line 5 repeats the form of line 1, line 8 of line 4, while lines 11 and 12 are a still closer repetition of lines 9 and 10; so that the poem follows in a sense the thrush's method of repetition. A later poet, perhaps a closer and more conscious observer than Keats, namely Robert Browning, says of the same bird in his 'Home--Thoughts from Abroad' --
"That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first line careless rapture!"'
~ Poetical Works of John Keats, ed. H. Buxton Forman, Crowell publ. 1895. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
~ John Keats, What The Thrush Said. Lines From A Letter To John Hamilton Reynolds

489:I.

I dream of a red-rose tree.
And which of its roses three
Is the dearest rose to me?

II.

Round and round, like a dance of snow
In a dazzling drift, as its guardians, go
Floating the women faded for ages,
Sculptured in stone, on the poet's pages.
Then follow women fresh and gay,
Living and loving and loved to-day.
Last, in the rear, flee the multitude of maidens,
Beauties yet unborn. And all, to one cadence,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.

III.

Dear rose, thy term is reached,
Thy leaf hangs loose and bleached:
Bees pass it unimpeached.

IV.

Stay then, stoop, since I cannot climb,
You, great shapes of the antique time!
How shall I fix you, fire you, freeze you,
Break my heart at your feet to please you?
Oh, to possess and be possessed!
Hearts that beat 'neath each pallid breast!
Once but of love, the poesy, the passion,
Drink but once and die!-In vain, the same fashion,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.

V.

Dear rose, thy joy's undimmed,
Thy cup is ruby-rimmed,
Thy cup's heart nectar-brimmed.

VI.

Deep, as drops from a statue's plinth
The bee sucked in by the hyacinth,
So will I bury me while burning,
Quench like him at a plunge my yearning,
Eyes in your eyes, lips on your lips!
Fold me fast where the cincture slips,
Prison all my soul in eternities of pleasure,
Girdle me for once! But no-the old measure,
They circle their rose on my rose tree.

VII.

Dear rose without a thorn,
Thy bud's the babe unborn:
First streak of a new morn.

VIII.

Wings, lend wings for the cold, the clear!
What is far conquers what is near.
Roses will bloom nor want beholders,
Sprung from the dust where our flesh moulders.
What shall arrive with the cycle's change?
A novel grace and a beauty strange.
I will make an Eve, be the artist that began her,
Shaped her to his mind!-Alas! in like manner
They circle their rose on my rose tree.

~ Robert Browning, Women And Roses

490:I.

Never any more,
While I live,
Need I hope to see his face
As before.
Once his love grown chill,
Mine may strive:
Bitterly we re-embrace,
Single still.

II.

Was it something said,
Something done,
Vexed him? was it touch of hand,
Turn of head?
Strange! that very way
Love begun:
I as little understand
Love's decay.

III.

When I sewed or drew,
I recall
How he looked as if I sung,
-Sweetly too.
If I spoke a word,
First of all
Up his cheek the colour sprang,
Then he heard.

IV.

Sitting by my side,
At my feet,
So he breathed but air I breathed,
Satisfied!
I, too, at love's brim
Touched the sweet:
I would die if death bequeathed
Sweet to him.

V.

``Speak, I love thee best!''
He exclaimed:
``Let thy love my own foretell!''
I confessed:
``Clasp my heart on thine
``Now unblamed,
``Since upon thy soul as well
``Hangeth mine!''

VI.

Was it wrong to own,
Being truth?
Why should all the giving prove
His alone?
I had wealth and ease,
Beauty, youth:
Since my lover gave me love,
I gave these.

VII.

That was all I meant,
-To be just,
And the passion I had raised,
To content.
Since he chose to change
Gold for dust,
If I gave him what he praised
Was it strange?

VIII.

Would he loved me yet,
On and on,
While I found some way undreamed
-Paid my debt!
Gave more life and more,
Till, all gone,
He should smile ``She never seemed
``Mine before.

IX.

``What, she felt the while,
``Must I think?
``Love's so different with us men!''
He should smile:
``Dying for my sake-
``White and pink!
``Can't we touch these bubbles then
``But they break?''

X.

Dear, the pang is brief,
Do thy part,
Have thy pleasure! How perplexed
Grows belief!
Well, this cold clay clod
Was man's heart:
Crumble it, and what comes next?
Is it God?


~ Robert Browning, In A Year

491:I.

Let them fight it out, friend! things have gone too far.
God must judge the couple: leave them as they are
-Whichever one's the guiltless, to his glory,
And whichever one the guilt's with, to my story!

II.

Why, you would not bid men, sunk in such a slough,
Strike no arm out further, stick and stink as now,
Leaving right and wrong to settle the embroilment,
Heaven with snaky hell, in torture and entoilment?

III.

Who's the culprit of them? How must he conceive
God-the queen he caps to, laughing in his sleeve,
`` 'Tis but decent to profess oneself beneath her:
``Still, one must not be too much in earnest, either!''

IV.

Better sin the whole sin, sure that God observes;
Then go live his life out! Life will try his nerves,
When the sky, which noticed all, makes no disclosure,
And the earth keeps up her terrible composure.

V.

Let him pace at pleasure, past the walls of rose,
Pluck their fruits when grape-trees graze him as he goes!
For he 'gins to guess the purpose of the garden,
With the sly mute thing, beside there, for a warden.

VI.

What's the leopard-dog-thing, constant at his side,
A leer and lie in every eye of its obsequious hide?
When will come an end to all the mock obeisance,
And the price appear that pays for the misfeasance?

VII.

So much for the culprit. Who's the martyred man?
Let him bear one stroke more, for be sure he can!
He that strove thus evil's lump with good to leaven,
Let him give his blood at last and get his heaven!

VIII.

All or nothing, stake it! Trust she God or no?
Thus far and no farther? farther? be it so!
Now, enough of your chicane of prudent pauses,
Sage provisos, sub-intents and saving-clauses!

IX.

Ah, ``forgive'' you bid him? While God's champion lives,
Wrong shall be resisted: dead, why, he forgives.
But you must not end my friend ere you begin him;
Evil stands not crowned on earth, while breath is in him.

X.

Once more-Will the wronger, at this last of all,
Dare to say, ``I did wrong,'' rising in his fall?
No?-Let go then! Both the fighters to their places!
While I count three, step you back as many paces!


~ Robert Browning, Before

492:The rain set early in tonight,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring how she loved me — she
Too weak, for all her heart's endeavor,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me forever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could tonight's gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last l knew
Porphyria worshiped me: surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string l wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And l untightened next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before,
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria's love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said aword! ~ Robert Browning
493:The rain set early in to-night,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring how she loved me-she
Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me for ever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria worshipped me; surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before,
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria's love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!

3
~ Robert Browning, Porphyrias Lover

494:I.

That was I, you heard last night,
When there rose no moon at all,
Nor, to pierce the strained and tight
Tent of heaven, a planet small:
Life was dead and so was light.

II.

Not a twinkle from the fly,
Not a glimmer from the worm;
When the crickets stopped their cry,
When the owls forbore a term,
You heard music; that was I.

III.

Earth turned in her sleep with pain,
Sultrily suspired for proof:
In at heaven and out again,
Lightning!-where it broke the roof,
Bloodlike, some few drops of rain.

IV.

What they could my words expressed,
O my love, my all, my one!
Singing helped the verses best,
And when singing's best was done,
To my lute I left the rest.

V.

So wore night; the East was gray,
White the broad-faced hemlock-flowers:
There would be another day;
Ere its first of heavy hours
Found me, I had passed away.

VI.

What became of all the hopes,
Words and song and lute as well?
Say, this struck you-``When life gropes
``Feebly for the path where fell
``Light last on the evening slopes,

VII.

``One friend in that path shall be,
``To secure my step from wrong;
``One to count night day for me,
``Patient through the watches long,
``Serving most with none to see.''

VIII.

Never say-as something bodes-
``So, the worst has yet a worse!
``When life halts 'neath double loads,
``Better the taskmaster's curse
``Than such music on the roads!

IX.

``When no moon succeeds the sun,
``Nor can pierce the midnight's tent
``Any star, the smallest one,
``While some drops, where lightning rent,
``Show the final storm begun-

X.

``When the fire-fly hides its spot,
``When the garden-voices fail
``In the darkness thick and hot,-
``Shall another voice avail,
``That shape be where these are not?

XI.

``Has some plague a longer lease,
``Proffering its help uncouth?
``Can't one even die in peace?
``As one shuts one's eyes on youth,
``Is that face the last one sees?''

XII.

Oh how dark your villa was,
Windows fast and obdurate!
How the garden grudged me grass
Where I stood-the iron gate
Ground its teeth to let me pass!


~ Robert Browning, A Serenade At The Villa

495:I.

I wonder do you feel to-day
As I have felt since, hand in hand,
We sat down on the grass, to stray
In spirit better through the land,
This morn of Rome and May?

II.

For me, I touched a thought, I know,
Has tantalized me many times,
(Like turns of thread the spiders throw
Mocking across our path) for rhymes
To catch at and let go.

III.

Help me to hold it! First it left
The yellowing fennel, run to seed
There, branching from the brickwork's cleft,
Some old tomb's ruin: yonder weed
Took up the floating wet,

IV.

Where one small orange cup amassed
Five beetles,-blind and green they grope
Among the honey-meal: and last,
Everywhere on the grassy slope
I traced it. Hold it fast!

V.

The champaign with its endless fleece
Of feathery grasses everywhere!
Silence and passion, joy and peace,
An everlasting wash of air-
Rome's ghost since her decease.

VI.

Such life here, through such lengths of hours,
Such miracles performed in play,
Such primal naked forms of flowers,
Such letting nature have her way
While heaven looks from its towers!

VII.

How say you? Let us, O my dove,
Let us be unashamed of soul,
As earth lies bare to heaven above!
How is it under our control
To love or not to love?

VIII.

I would that you were all to me,
You that are just so much, no more.
Nor yours nor mine, nor slave nor free!
Where does the fault lie? What the core
O' the wound, since wound must be?

IX.

I would I could adopt your will,
See with your eyes, and set my heart
Beating by yours, and drink my fill
At your soul's springs,-your part my part
In life, for good and ill.

X.

No. I yearn upward, touch you close,
Then stand away. I kiss your cheek,
Catch your soul's warmth,-I pluck the rose
And love it more than tongue can speak-
Then the good minute goes.

XI.

Already how am I so far
Out of that minute? Must I go
Still like the thistle-ball, no bar,
Onward, whenever light winds blow,
Fixed by no friendly star?

XII.

Just when I seemed about to learn!
Where is the thread now? Off again!
The old trick! Only I discern-
Infinite passion, and the pain
Of finite hearts that yearn.
Herb with yellow flowers and seeds supposed
to be medicinal.


~ Robert Browning, Two In The Campagna

496:I.

Beautiful Evelyn Hope is dead!
Sit and watch by her side an hour.
That is her book-shelf, this her bed;
She plucked that piece of geranium-flower,
Beginning to die too, in the glass;
Little has yet been changed, I think:
The shutters are shut, no light may pass
Save two long rays thro' the hinge's chink.

II.

Sixteen years old, when she died!
Perhaps she had scarcely heard my name;
It was not her time to love; beside,
Her life had many a hope and aim,
Duties enough and little cares,
And now was quiet, now astir,
Till God's hand beckoned unawares,-
And the sweet white brow is all of her.

III.

Is it too late then, Evelyn Hope?
What, your soul was pure and true,
The good stars met in your horoscope,
Made you of spirit, fire and dew-
And, just because I was thrice as old
And our paths in the world diverged so wide,
Each was nought to each, must I be told?
We were fellow mortals, nought beside?

IV.

No, indeed! for God above
Is great to grant, as mighty to make,
And creates the love to reward the love:
I claim you still, for my own love's sake!
Delayed it may be for more lives yet,
Through worlds I shall traverse, not a few:
Much is to learn, much to forget
Ere the time be come for taking you.

V.

But the time will come,-at last it will,
When, Evelyn Hope, what meant (I shall say)
In the lower earth, in the years long still,
That body and soul so pure and gay?
Why your hair was amber, I shall divine,
And your mouth of your own geranium's red-
And what you would do with me, in fine,
In the new life come in the old one's stead.

VI.

I have lived (I shall say) so much since then,
Given up myself so many times,
Gained me the gains of various men,
Ransacked the ages, spoiled the climes;
Yet one thing, one, in my soul's full scope,
Either I missed or itself missed me:
And I want and find you, Evelyn Hope!
What is the issue? let us see!

VII.

I loved you, Evelyn, all the while.
My heart seemed full as it could hold?
There was place and to spare for the frank young smile,
And the red young mouth, and the hair's young gold.
So, hush,-I will give you this leaf to keep:
See, I shut it inside the sweet cold hand!
There, that is our secret: go to sleep!
You will wake, and remember, and understand.


~ Robert Browning, Evelyn Hope

497:I.

So far as our story approaches the end,
Which do you pity the most of us three?-
My friend, or the mistress of my friend
With her wanton eyes, or me?

II.

My friend was already too good to lose,
And seemed in the way of improvement yet,
When she crossed his path with her hunting-noose
And over him drew her net.

III.

When I saw him tangled in her toils,
A shame, said I, if she adds just him
To her nine-and-ninety other spoils,
The hundredth for a whim!

IV.

And before my friend be wholly hers,
How easy to prove to him, I said,
An eagle's the game her pride prefers,
Though she snaps at a wren instead!

V.

So, I gave her eyes my own eyes to take,
My hand sought hers as in earnest need,
And round she turned for my noble sake,
And gave me herself indeed.

VI.

The eagle am I, with my fame in the world,
The wren is he, with his maiden face.
-You look away and your lip is curled?
Patience, a moment's space!

VII.

For see, my friend goes shaling and white;
He eyes me as the basilisk:
I have turned, it appears, his day to night,
Eclipsing his sun's disk.

VIII.

And I did it, he thinks, as a very thief:
``Though I love her-that, he comprehends-
``One should master one's passions, (love, in chief)
``And be loyal to one's friends!''

IX.

And she,-she lies in my hand as tame
As a pear late basking over a wall;
Just a touch to try and off it came;
'Tis mine,-can I let it fall?

X.

With no mind to eat it, that's the worst!
Were it thrown in the road, would the case assist?
'Twas quenching a dozen blue-flies' thirst
When I gave its stalk a twist.

XI.

And I,-what I seem to my friend, you see:
What I soon shall seem to his love, you guess:
What I seem to myself, do you ask of me?
No hero, I confess.

XII.

'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls,
And matter enough to save one's own:
Yet think of my friend, and the burning coals
He played with for bits of stone!

XIII.

One likes to show the truth for the truth;
That the woman was light is very true:
But suppose she says,-Never mind that youth!
What wrong have I done to you?

XIV.

Well, any how, here the story stays,
So far at least as I understand;
And, Robert Browning, you writer of plays,
Here's a subject made to your hand!


~ Robert Browning, A Light Woman

498:I.
Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly,
May gaze thro' these faint smokes curling whitely,
As thou pliest thy trade in this devil's-smithy-
Which is the poison to poison her, prithee?

II.
He is with her, and they know that I know
Where they are, what they do: they believe my tears flow
While they laugh, laugh at me, at me fled to the drear
Empty church, to pray God in, for them!-I am here.

III
Grind away, moisten and mash up thy paste,
Pound at thy powder,-I am not in haste!
Better sit thus, and observe thy strange things,
Than go where men wait me and dance at the King's.

IV
That in the mortar-you call it a gum?
Ah, the brave tree whence such gold oozings come!
And yonder soft phial, the exquisite blue,
Sure to taste sweetly,-is that poison too?

V
Had I but all of them, thee and thy treasures,
What a wild crowd of invisible pleasures!
To carry pure death in an earring, a casket,
A signet, a fan-mount, a filigree basket!

VI
Soon, at the King's, a mere lozenge to give,
And Pauline should have just thirty minutes to live!
But to light a pastile, and Elise, with her head
And her breast and her arms and her hands, should drop dead!

VII
Quick-is it finished? The colour's too grim!
Why not soft like the phial's, enticing and dim?
Let it brighten her drink, let her turn it and stir,
And try it and taste, ere she fix and prefer!

VIII
What a drop! She's not little, no minion like me!
That's why she ensnared him: this never will free
The soul from those masculine eyes,-Say, ``no!''
To that pulse's magnificent come-and-go.

IX
For only last night, as they whispered, I brought
My own eyes to bear on her so, that I thought
Could I keep them one half minute fixed, she would fall
Shrivelled; she fell not; yet this does it all!

X
Not that I bid you spare her the pain;
Let death be felt and the proof remain:
Brand, burn up, bite into its grace-
He is sure to remember her dying face!

XI
Is it done? Take my mask off! Nay, be not morose;
It kills her, and this prevents seeing it close;
The delicate droplet, my whole fortune's fee!
If it hurts her, beside, can it ever hurt me?

XII
Now, take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill,
You may kiss me, old man, on my mouth if you will!
But brush this dust off me, lest horror it brings
Ere I know it-next moment I dance at the King's!


~ Robert Browning, The Laboratory-Ancien Rgime

499:I've a Friend, over the sea;
I like him, but he loves me.
It all grew out of the books I write;
They find such favour in his sight
That he slaughters you with savage looks
Because you don't admire my books.
He does himself though,-and if some vein
Were to snap to-night in this heavy brain,
To-morrow month, if I lived to try,
Round should I just turn quietly,
Or out of the bedclothes stretch my hand
Till I found him, come from his foreign land
To be my nurse in this poor place,
And make my broth and wash my face
And light my fire and, all the while,
Bear with his old good-humoured smile
That I told him ``Better have kept away
``Than come and kill me, night and day,
``With, worse than fever throbs and shoots,
``The creaking of his clumsy boots.''
I am as sure that this he would do
As that Saint Paul's is striking two.
And I think I rather woe is me!
-Yes, rather would see him than not see,
If lifting a hand could seat him there
Before me in the empty chair
To-night, when my head aches indeed,
And I can neither think nor read
Nor make these purple fingers hold
The pen; this garret's freezing cold!

And I've a Lady-there he wakes,
The laughing fiend and prince of snakes
Within me, at her name, to pray
Fate send some creature in the way
Of my love for her, to be down-torn,
Upthrust and outward-borne,
So I might prove myself that sea
Of passion which I needs must be!
Call my thoughts false and my fancies quaint
And my style infirm and its figures faint,
All the critics say, and more blame yet,
And not one angry word you get.
But, please you, wonder I would put
My cheek beneath that lady's foot
Rather than trample under mine
The laurels of the Florentine,
And you shall see how the devil spends
A fire God gave for other ends!
I tell you, I stride up and down
This garret, crowned with love's best crown,
And feasted with love's perfect feast,
To think I kill for her, at least,
Body and soul and peace and fame,
Alike youth's end and manhood's aim,
-So is my spirit, as flesh with sin,
Filled full, eaten out and in
With the face of her, the eyes of her,
The lips, the little chin, the stir
Of shadow round her month; and she
-I'll tell you,-calmly would decree
That I should roast at a slow fire,
If that would compass her desire
And make her one whom they invite
To the famous ball to-morrow night.

There may be heaven; there must be hell;
Meantime, there is our earth here-well!


~ Robert Browning, Times Revenges

500:I.

She should never have looked at me
If she meant I should not love her!
There are plenty men, you call such,
I suppose she may discover
All her soul to, if she pleases,
And yet leave much as she found them:
But I'm not so, and she knew it
When she fixed me, glancing round them,

II.

What? To fix me thus meant nothing?
But I can't tell (there's my weakness)
What her look said!-no vile cant, sure,
About ``need to strew the bleakness
``Of some lone shore with its pearl-seed.
``That the sea feels''-no strange yearning
``That such souls have, most to lavish
``Where there's chance of least returning.''

III.

Oh, we're sunk enough here, God knows!
But not quite so sunk that moments,
Sure tho' seldom, are denied us,
When the spirit's true endowments
Stand out plainly from its false ones,
And apprise it if pursuing
Or the right way or the wrong way,
To its triumph or undoing.

IV.

There are flashes struck from midnights,
There are fire-flames noondays kindle,
Whereby piled-up honours perish,
Whereby swollen ambitions dwindle,
While just this or that poor impulse,
Which for once had play unstifled,
Seems the sole work of a life-time
That away the rest have trifled.

V.

Doubt you if, in some such moment,
As she fixed me, she felt clearly,
Ages past the soul existed,
Here an age 'tis resting merely,
And hence fleets again for ages,
While the true end, sole and single,
It stops here for is, this love-way,
With some other soul to mingle?

VI.

Else it loses what it lived for,
And eternally must lose it;
Better ends may be in prospect,
Deeper blisses (if you choose it),
But this life's end and this love-bliss
Have been lost here. Doubt you whether
This she felt as, looking at me,
Mine and her souls rushed together?

VII.

Oh, observe! Of course, next moment,
The world's honours, in derision,
Trampled out the light for ever:
Never fear but there's provision
Of the devil's to quench knowledge
Lest we walk the earth in rapture!
-Making those who catch God's secret
Just so much more prize their capture!

VIII.

Such am I: the secret's mine now!
She has lost me, I have gained her;
Her soul's mine: and thus, grown perfect,
I shall pass my life's remainder.
Life will just hold out the proving
Both our powers, alone and blended:
And then, come next life quickly!
This world's use will have been ended.


~ Robert Browning, Cristina


IN CHAPTERS



   5 Poetry
   3 Occultism
   1 Philosophy
   1 Mysticism
   1 Fiction


   3 Aleister Crowley


   3 Magick Without Tears


1.24 - Necromancy and Spiritism, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  
  So also we are most fortunate in possessing the account almost beyond Heart's desire of Spiritism, in Robert Browning's Mr. Sludge the Medium. You see that I write "Spiritism" not "Spiritualism." To use the latter word in this connection is vulgar ignorance; it denotes a system of philosophy which flourished (more or less) is the Middle Ages read your Erdmann if you want the gruesome details. But why should you?
  

1.55 - Money, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  
  A couple of Japanese wrestlers may be worth more than Phidias, Robert Browning, Titian and Mozart in terms of butchers' meat. We might alter that incorrect truism "money cannot by anything worth having" to "things worth having cannot be estimated in terms of money." You see, no counting. The operation to save your child's life: do you care if the surgeon wants five pounds or fifty? Of course, you may not have the fifty, or be obliged to retrench in other ways to get it; but it makes no odds as to what you feel about it. What is the value of a University Education? The answer is that it is a pure gamble. The student may use his advantages to make a rich marriage, to attract the wife of a millionaire, to earn a judgeship or a post in the Cabinet, to earn 500 a year as a doctor, 150 as a schoolmaster or he may die in the process. So with all the spiritual values; they are, in the most literal sense, inestimable. So don't start to count!
  

1.83 - Epistola Ultima, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
    I Write as I Please, Walter Duranty 17, 116, 362
    Mr. Sludge the Medium, Robert Browning 117, 144, 177
    Lost Horizon, James Hilton 151

1.jk - What The Thrush Said. Lines From A Letter To John Hamilton Reynolds, #Keats - Poems, #John Keats, #Poetry
  
  and these fourteen lines of blank verse follow immediately on the word 'say', so that the title I have ventured to give to the lines accords at all events with the facts. Keats seems to have been really writing in a kind of spiritual parallelism with the thrush's song : it will be noted that line 5 repeats the form of line 1, line 8 of line 4, while lines 11 and 12 are a still closer repetition of lines 9 and 10; so that the poem follows in a sense the thrush's method of repetition. A later poet, perhaps a closer and more conscious observer than Keats, namely Robert Browning, says of the same bird in his 'Home--Thoughts from Abroad' --
  "That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over

1.jlb - Browning Decides To Be A Poet, #Borges - Poems, #Jorge Luis Borges, #Poetry
  will weave and unweave my life,
  and in time I shall be Robert Browning.
  

1.pbs - The Indian Serenade, #Shelley - Poems, #Percy Bysshe Shelley, #Fiction
  Where it will break at last.
  Published, with the title, "Song written for an Indian Air", in "The Liberal", 2, 1822. Reprinted ("Lines to an Indian Air") by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824. The poem is included in the Harvard manuscript book, and there is a description by Robert Browning of an autograph copy presenting some variations from the text of 1824.
  

1.rb - A Light Woman, #Browning - Poems, #Robert Browning, #Poetry
   So far at least as I understand;
  And, Robert Browning, you writer of plays,
   Here's a subject made to your hand!

1.wby - Are You Content?, #Yeats - Poems, #William Butler Yeats, #Poetry
  Or demonstrate in my own life
  What Robert Browning meant
  By an old hunter talking with Gods;

WORDNET



--- Overview of noun robert_browning

The noun robert browning has 1 sense (no senses from tagged texts)
              
1. Browning, Robert Browning ::: (English poet and husband of Elizabeth Barrett Browning noted for his dramatic monologues (1812-1889))




--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun robert_browning

1 sense of robert browning                      

Sense 1
Browning, Robert Browning
   INSTANCE OF=> poet
     => writer, author
       => communicator
         => person, individual, someone, somebody, mortal, soul
           => organism, being
             => living thing, animate thing
               => whole, unit
                 => object, physical object
                   => physical entity
                     => entity
           => causal agent, cause, causal agency
             => physical entity
               => entity




--- Hyponyms of noun robert_browning
                                    




--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun robert_browning

1 sense of robert browning                      

Sense 1
Browning, Robert Browning
   INSTANCE OF=> poet










--- Coordinate Terms (sisters) of noun robert_browning

1 sense of robert browning                      

Sense 1
Browning, Robert Browning
  -> poet
   => bard
   => elegist
   => odist
   => poetess
   => poet laureate
   => poet laureate
   => sonneteer
   HAS INSTANCE=> Alcaeus
   HAS INSTANCE=> Apollinaire, Guillaume Apollinaire, Wilhelm Apollinaris de Kostrowitzki
   HAS INSTANCE=> Arnold, Matthew Arnold
   HAS INSTANCE=> Arp, Jean Arp, Hans Arp
   HAS INSTANCE=> Auden, W. H. Auden, Wystan Hugh Auden
   HAS INSTANCE=> Baudelaire, Charles Baudelaire, Charles Pierre Baudelaire
   HAS INSTANCE=> Benet, Stephen Vincent Benet
   HAS INSTANCE=> Blake, William Blake
   HAS INSTANCE=> Blok, Alexander Alexandrovich Blok, Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Blok
   HAS INSTANCE=> Boccaccio, Giovanni Boccaccio
   HAS INSTANCE=> Bradstreet, Anne Bradstreet, Anne Dudley Bradstreet
   HAS INSTANCE=> Brecht, Bertolt Brecht
   HAS INSTANCE=> Brooke, Rupert Brooke
   HAS INSTANCE=> Browning, Elizabeth Barrett Browning
   HAS INSTANCE=> Browning, Robert Browning
   HAS INSTANCE=> Burns, Robert Burns
   HAS INSTANCE=> Butler, Samuel Butler
   HAS INSTANCE=> Byron, Lord George Gordon Byron, Sixth Baron Byron of Rochdale
   HAS INSTANCE=> Calderon, Calderon de la Barca, Pedro Calderon de la Barca
   HAS INSTANCE=> Carducci, Giosue Carducci
   HAS INSTANCE=> Carew, Thomas Carew
   HAS INSTANCE=> Catullus, Gaius Valerius Catullus
   HAS INSTANCE=> Chaucer, Geoffrey Chaucer
   HAS INSTANCE=> Ciardi, John Ciardi, John Anthony Ciardi
   HAS INSTANCE=> Coleridge, Samuel Taylor Coleridge
   HAS INSTANCE=> Corneille, Pierre Corneille
   HAS INSTANCE=> Cowper, William Cowper
   HAS INSTANCE=> Crane, Hart Crane, Harold Hart Crane
   HAS INSTANCE=> Cynewulf, Cynwulf
   HAS INSTANCE=> Dante, Dante Alighieri
   HAS INSTANCE=> de la Mare, Walter de la Mare, Walter John de la Mare
   HAS INSTANCE=> Dickinson, Emily Dickinson
   HAS INSTANCE=> Donne, John Donne
   HAS INSTANCE=> Dryden, John Dryden
   HAS INSTANCE=> Eliot, T. S. Eliot, Thomas Stearns Eliot
   HAS INSTANCE=> Fitzgerald, Edward Fitzgerald
   HAS INSTANCE=> Frost, Robert Frost, Robert Lee Frost
   HAS INSTANCE=> Garcia Lorca, Frederico Garcia Lorca, Lorca
   HAS INSTANCE=> Gilbert, William Gilbert, William S. Gilbert, William Schwenk Gilbert, Sir William Gilbert
   HAS INSTANCE=> Ginsberg, Allen Ginsberg
   HAS INSTANCE=> Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
   HAS INSTANCE=> Gongora, Luis de Gongora y Argote
   HAS INSTANCE=> Gray, Thomas Gray
   HAS INSTANCE=> Herrick, Robert Herrick
   HAS INSTANCE=> Hesiod
   HAS INSTANCE=> Hoffmannsthal, Hugo von Hoffmannsthal
   HAS INSTANCE=> Hogg, James Hogg
   HAS INSTANCE=> Homer
   HAS INSTANCE=> Hopkins, Gerard Manley Hopkins
   HAS INSTANCE=> Horace
   HAS INSTANCE=> Housman, A. E. Housman, Alfred Edward Housman
   HAS INSTANCE=> Hughes, Ted Hughes, Edward James Hughes
   HAS INSTANCE=> Hugo, Victor Hugo, Victor-Marie Hugo
   HAS INSTANCE=> Ibsen, Henrik Ibsen, Henrik Johan Ibsen
   HAS INSTANCE=> Jarrell, Randall Jarrell
   HAS INSTANCE=> Jeffers, Robinson Jeffers, John Robinson Jeffers
   HAS INSTANCE=> Jimenez, Juan Ramon Jimenez
   HAS INSTANCE=> Jonson, Ben Jonson, Benjamin Jonson
   HAS INSTANCE=> Karlfeldt, Erik Axel Karlfeldt
   HAS INSTANCE=> Keats, John Keats
   HAS INSTANCE=> Key, Francis Scott Key
   HAS INSTANCE=> Klopstock, Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock
   HAS INSTANCE=> Lindsay, Vachel Lindsay, Nicholas Vachel Lindsay
   HAS INSTANCE=> Li Po
   HAS INSTANCE=> Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
   HAS INSTANCE=> Lovelace, Richard Lovelace
   HAS INSTANCE=> Lowell, Amy Lowell
   HAS INSTANCE=> Lowell, Robert Lowell, Robert Traill Spence Lowell Jr.
   HAS INSTANCE=> Lucretius, Titus Lucretius Carus
   HAS INSTANCE=> MacLeish, Archibald MacLeish
   HAS INSTANCE=> Mallarme, Stephane Mallarme
   HAS INSTANCE=> Mandelstam, Osip Mandelstam, Osip Emilevich Mandelstam, Mandelshtam
   HAS INSTANCE=> Marini, Giambattista Marini, Marino, Giambattista Marino
   HAS INSTANCE=> Marlowe, Christopher Marlowe
   HAS INSTANCE=> Marti, Jose Julian Marti
   HAS INSTANCE=> Martial
   HAS INSTANCE=> Marvell, Andrew Marvell
   HAS INSTANCE=> Masefield, John Masefield, John Edward Masefield
   HAS INSTANCE=> Masters, Edgar Lee Masters
   HAS INSTANCE=> Mayakovski, Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayakovski
   HAS INSTANCE=> Meredith, George Meredith
   HAS INSTANCE=> Milton, John Milton
   HAS INSTANCE=> Moore, Marianne Moore, Marianne Craig Moore
   HAS INSTANCE=> Moore, Thomas Moore
   HAS INSTANCE=> Morris, William Morris
   HAS INSTANCE=> Musset, Alfred de Musset, Louis Charles Alfred de Musset
   HAS INSTANCE=> Neruda, Pablo Neruda, Reyes, Neftali Ricardo Reyes
   HAS INSTANCE=> Noyes, Alfred Noyes
   HAS INSTANCE=> Omar Khayyam
   HAS INSTANCE=> Ovid, Publius Ovidius Naso
   HAS INSTANCE=> Palgrave, Francis Turner Palgrave
   HAS INSTANCE=> Petrarch, Petrarca, Francesco Petrarca
   HAS INSTANCE=> Pindar
   HAS INSTANCE=> Plath, Sylvia Plath
   HAS INSTANCE=> Poe, Edgar Allan Poe
   HAS INSTANCE=> Pope, Alexander Pope
   HAS INSTANCE=> Pound, Ezra Pound, Ezra Loomis Pound
   HAS INSTANCE=> Pushkin, Alexander Pushkin, Aleksandr Sergeyevich Pushkin
   HAS INSTANCE=> Racine, Jean Racine, Jean Baptiste Racine
   HAS INSTANCE=> Riley, James Whitcomb Riley
   HAS INSTANCE=> Rilke, Rainer Maria Rilke
   HAS INSTANCE=> Rimbaud, Arthur Rimbaud, Jean Nicholas Arthur Rimbaud
   HAS INSTANCE=> Robinson, Edwin Arlington Robinson
   HAS INSTANCE=> Rostand, Edmond Rostand
   HAS INSTANCE=> Seeger, Alan Seeger
   HAS INSTANCE=> Sexton, Anne Sexton
   HAS INSTANCE=> Shakespeare, William Shakespeare, Shakspere, William Shakspere, Bard of Avon
   HAS INSTANCE=> Shelley, Percy Bysshe Shelley
   HAS INSTANCE=> Shevchenko, Taras Grigoryevich Shevchenko
   HAS INSTANCE=> Sidney, Sir Philip Sidney
   HAS INSTANCE=> Silverstein, Shel Silverstein, Shelby Silverstein
   HAS INSTANCE=> Sitwell, Dame Edith Sitwell, Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell
   HAS INSTANCE=> Southey, Robert Southey
   HAS INSTANCE=> Spender, Stephen Spender, Sir Stephen Harold Spender
   HAS INSTANCE=> Spenser, Edmund Spenser
   HAS INSTANCE=> Stevens, Wallace Stevens
   HAS INSTANCE=> Suckling, Sir John Suckling
   HAS INSTANCE=> Swinburne, Algernon Charles Swinburne
   HAS INSTANCE=> Symons, Arthur Symons
   HAS INSTANCE=> Synge, J. M. Synge, John Millington Synge, Edmund John Millington Synge
   HAS INSTANCE=> Tasso, Torquato Tasso
   HAS INSTANCE=> Tate, Allen Tate, John Orley Allen Tate
   HAS INSTANCE=> Teasdale, Sara Teasdale
   HAS INSTANCE=> Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, First Baron Tennyson, Alfred Lord Tennyson
   HAS INSTANCE=> Thespis
   HAS INSTANCE=> Thomas, Dylan Thomas, Dylan Marlais Thomas
   HAS INSTANCE=> Trumbull, John Trumbull
   HAS INSTANCE=> Tzara, Tristan Tzara, Samuel Rosenstock
   HAS INSTANCE=> Uhland, Johann Ludwig Uhland
   HAS INSTANCE=> Verlaine, Paul Verlaine
   HAS INSTANCE=> Villon, Francois Villon
   HAS INSTANCE=> Virgil, Vergil, Publius Vergilius Maro
   HAS INSTANCE=> Voznesenski, Andrei Voznesenski
   HAS INSTANCE=> Warren, Robert Penn Warren
   HAS INSTANCE=> Watts, Isaac Watts
   HAS INSTANCE=> Wheatley, Phillis Wheatley
   HAS INSTANCE=> Whitman, Walt Whitman
   HAS INSTANCE=> Whittier, John Greenleaf Whittier
   HAS INSTANCE=> Williams, William Carlos Williams
   HAS INSTANCE=> Wordsworth, William Wordsworth
   HAS INSTANCE=> Wyatt, Sir Thomas Wyatt, Wyat, Sir Thomas Wyat
   HAS INSTANCE=> Wylie, Elinor Morton Hoyt Wylie
   HAS INSTANCE=> Yeats, William Butler Yeats, W. B. Yeats
   HAS INSTANCE=> Yevtushenko, Yevgeni Yevtushenko, Yevgeni Aleksandrovich Yevtushenko
   HAS INSTANCE=> Young, Edward Young










--- Grep of noun robert_browning
robert browning





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