Maxioms by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
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And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
And eternity's despair!
And they heart the words it said--
Pan is dead! great Pan is dead!
Pan, Pan is dead!
If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say, I love read more
If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say, I love her for her smile . . . her look . . . her way Of speaking gently . . . for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and, certes, brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day- For these things in themselves, Beloved, may be changed, or change for thee- and love so wrought, May be unwrought so.
Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.
Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.
There's not a crime
But takes its proper change out still in crime
If once rung on read more
There's not a crime
But takes its proper change out still in crime
If once rung on the counter of this world.
. . . Purple lilies Dante blew
To a larger bubble with his prophet breath.
. . . Purple lilies Dante blew
To a larger bubble with his prophet breath.
