Maxioms by Robert Browning
'Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do.
'Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do.
Oh, to be in England,
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
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Oh, to be in England,
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf,
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England--now.
Every one soon or late comes round by Rome.
Every one soon or late comes round by Rome.
A face to lose youth for, to occupy age
With the dream of, meet death with.
A face to lose youth for, to occupy age
With the dream of, meet death with.
