Maxioms by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
. . . Purple lilies Dante blew
To a larger bubble with his prophet breath.
. . . Purple lilies Dante blew
To a larger bubble with his prophet breath.
Many a crown
Covers bald foreheads.
Many a crown
Covers bald foreheads.
God's prophets of the Beautiful,
These Poets were.
God's prophets of the Beautiful,
These Poets were.
O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, read more
O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat,--
Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee.
How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
read more
How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
Pleasures to make room for more--
Sleeping near the withered nosegay which he pulled the day
before.
