Maxioms by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
What is art
But life upon the larger scale, the higher,
When, graduating up in a spiral read more
What is art
But life upon the larger scale, the higher,
When, graduating up in a spiral line
Of still expanding and ascending gyres,
It pushed toward the intense significance
Of all things, hungry for the Infinite?
Art's life--and where we live, we suffer and toil.
Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,
Along the Psalmist's music read more
Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,
Along the Psalmist's music deep,
Now tell me if that any is.
For gift or grace, surpassing this--
"He giveth His beloved sleep."
Let no one till his death
Be called unhappy. Measure not the work
Until the day's out read more
Let no one till his death
Be called unhappy. Measure not the work
Until the day's out and the labour done.
The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise,
I barter for curl upon that mart.
The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise,
I barter for curl upon that mart.
Thank God for grace,
Ye who weep only! If, as some have done,
Ye grope tear-blinded in read more
Thank God for grace,
Ye who weep only! If, as some have done,
Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place
And touch but tombs,--look up! Those tears will run
Soon in long rivers down the lifted face,
And leave the vision clear for stars and sun.