Maxioms by Robert Browning
All June I bound the rose in sheaves,
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.
All June I bound the rose in sheaves,
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land,
Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land,
Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a ribbon to stick in his coat;
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Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a ribbon to stick in his coat;
Found the one gift of which Fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote.
Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone,
Not God's, and not the beast's;
God is, they are,
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Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone,
Not God's, and not the beast's;
God is, they are,
Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.
