Robert Browning

Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven
What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.

Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven
What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.

Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.

Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.

Feast of Etheldreda, Abbess of Ely, c.678 Continuing a short series on authenticity: For the preacher's merit or demerit, It read more

Feast of Etheldreda, Abbess of Ely, c.678 Continuing a short series on authenticity: For the preacher's merit or demerit, It were to be wished the flaws were fewer In the earthen vessel, holding treasure, Which lies as safe in a golden ewer; But the main thing is, does it hold good measure? Heaven soon sets right all other matters.

It is the glory and good of Art,
That Art remains the one way possible
Of speaking read more

It is the glory and good of Art,
That Art remains the one way possible
Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least.

For the preacher's merit or demerit,
It were to be wished that the flaws were fewer
In read more

For the preacher's merit or demerit,
It were to be wished that the flaws were fewer
In the earthen vessel, holding treasure,
But the main thing is, does it hold good measure
Heaven soon sets right all other matters!