The Poetical Works of Robert Browning ...Macmillan and Company, 1894 |
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Admetos Alkestis Athens Bateleurs bear beauty beneath beside body breath brow Clairvaux cousin coverture crowned dæmons Dalmatia dare dead dear death dream earth Elvire Euripides evermore face faith fancy fear Fifine flesh fool gain give grace groundling Hades hand hate head heart heaven Herakles Hohenstiel-Schwangau Kameiros keep knew laugh leave live look man's marriage means mind Moirai Monsieur Léonce Miranda Muhlhausen nature neath needs never Night-cap nought nowise o'er once pain Paris Place Vendôme plain play poor Pornic praise pray prize prove Ravissante round smile somehow sorrow soul speech stand sure thee there's Thessalian things thou thought Thrace touch true truth turf turn twixt whence whole wife woman wonder word youth Zeus
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Сторінка 102 - But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?" "I myself know that: but a certain love Allures me to the choice I shall not change." "Ay, but, still loving dead ones, still makes weep.
Сторінка 151 - No ! sane, I say. Such being the conditions of his life, Such end of life was not irrational. Hold a belief, you only half-believe, With all-momentous issues either way, — And I advise you imitate this leap, Put faith to proof, be cured or killed at once...
Сторінка 165 - And bless your stars, as I do. God takes time. I like the thought He should have lodged me once I' the hole, the cave, the hut, the tenement, The mansion and the palace ; made me learn The feel o...
Сторінка 332 - Truth inside ; and, outside, truth also ; and, between Each, falsehood that is change, as truth is permanence. The individual soul works through the shows of sense (Which, ever proving false, still promise to be true) Up to an outer soul as individual too ; And, through the fleeting, lives to die into the fixed, And reach at length, ' God, man, or both together mixed...
Сторінка 158 - For ever ! Crumbled arch, crushed aqueduct, Alive with tremors in the shaggy growth Of wild-wood, crevice-sown, that triumphs there Imparting exultation to the hills ! Sweep of the swathe when only the winds walk And waft my words above the grassy sea Under the blinding blue that basks o'er Rome, — Hear ye not still —
Сторінка 111 - Ah, that brave Bounty of poets, the one royal race That ever was, or will be, in this world ! They give no gift that bounds itself, and ends I' the giving and the taking: theirs so breeds I
Сторінка 132 - what likelier ? God, perchance, Grants each new man, by some as new a mode, Intercommunication with Himself, Wreaking on finiteness infinitude ; By such a series of effects, gives each Last His own imprint : old yet ever new The process : 't is the way of Deity.
Сторінка 263 - I search but cannot see What purpose serves the soul that strives, or world it tries Conclusions with, unless the fruit of victories Stay, one and all, stored up and guaranteed its own Forever, by some mode whereby shall be made known The gain of every life. Death reads the title clear — What each soul for itself conquered from out things here : Since, in the seeing soul, all worth lies, I assert, — And nought i...
Сторінка 92 - Friends, I account the fortune of my wife 2010 Happier than mine, though it seem otherwise: For, her indeed no grief will ever touch, And she from many a labor pauses now, Renowned one! Whereas I, who ought not live, But do live, by evading destiny, Sad life am I to lead, I learn at last! For how shall I bear going in-doors here? Accosting whom? By whom saluted back, Shall I have joyous entry? Whither turn? Inside, the solitude will drive me forth...
Сторінка 275 - Air the essential good, not sea, wherein who moves Must thence, in the act, escape, apart from will or wish. Move a mere hand to take waterweed, jelly-fish, Upward you tend ! And yet our business with the sea Is not with air, but just o' the water, watery : We must endure the false, no particle of which Do we acquaint us with, but "up we mount a pitch Above it, find our head reach truth, while hands explore The false below : so much while here we bathe, — no more ! LXVI.