Maxioms by Robert Browning
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 thence,--a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,--
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
read more
For thence,--a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,--
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me:
A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the scale.
Dear, dead women, with such hair, too--what's become of all the
gold
Used to hang and brush their read more
Dear, dead women, with such hair, too--what's become of all the
gold
Used to hang and brush their bosoms?
If I stoop
Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud,
It is but for a time; I read more
If I stoop
Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud,
It is but for a time; I press God's lamp
Close to my breast; its splendor soon or late
Will pierce the gloom; I shall emerge one day.
What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.
What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.