Robert Browning: Humanist: A Selection from Browning's PoetryL. MacVeagh, 1925 - 389 стор. |
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bear beauty better blue break breast breath brow Browning cheek church dead death drop earth eyes face fear feel flowers gave give gold grew hair hand head heart heaven hold hope Italy keep King laughed leave less light live look lost Master mind mouth nature never night o'er once paint pass passion past perfect play poems poet praise prove reached rest ride rose round seemed side smile song soul speak stand star stood stopped sure tell there's thing thought Till touch tree true truth turn Twas VIII wall Waring What's whole wind wonder youth
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Сторінка 313 - Aix" — for one heard the quick wheeze Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees, And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.
Сторінка 313 - So we were left galloping, Joris and I, Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky; The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 'Neath our feet broke the brittle, bright stubble like chaff; Till over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white, And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!
Сторінка 377 - Not on the vulgar mass Called " work," must sentence pass, Things done, that took the eye and had the price; O'er which, from level stand, The low world laid its hand, Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice...
Сторінка 117 - Rafael is waiting: up to God, all three!" I might have done it for you. So it seems: Perhaps not. All is as God overrules. Beside, incentives come from the soul's self; The rest avail not. Why do I need you?
Сторінка 375 - Leave the fire ashes, what survives is gold: And I shall weigh the same, Give life its praise or blame: Young, all lay in dispute; I shall know, being old.
Сторінка 172 - 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
Сторінка 262 - Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues? Talk to me of rocks and shoals, me who took the soundings, tell On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell 'Twixt the offing here and Greve where the river disembogues ? Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for?
Сторінка 114 - Behold Madonna ! — I am bold to say. I can do with my pencil what I know, What I see, what at bottom of my heart I wish for, if I ever wish so deep — Do easily, too— when I say, perfectly, I do not boast, perhaps...
Сторінка 377 - Be there, for once and all, Severed great minds from small, Announced to each his station in the Past ! Was I, the world arraigned, Were they, my soul disdained, Right? Let age speak the truth and give us peace at last ! XXII.
Сторінка 248 - Self-gathered for an outbreak, as it ought, Chafes in the censer. Leave we the unlettered plain its herd and crop ; Seek we sepulture On a tall mountain, citied to the top, Crowded with culture...