Robert Browning ( 10 of 73 )
There shall never be one lost good! What was shall live as
before;
The evil is null, is read more
There shall never be one lost good! What was shall live as
before;
The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound;
What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more;
On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.
In some time, his good time, I shall arrive;
He guides me and the bird
In his read more
In some time, his good time, I shall arrive;
He guides me and the bird
In his good time.
Every one soon or late comes round by Rome.
Every one soon or late comes round by Rome.
"With this same key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart," once more!
Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare read more
"With this same key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart," once more!
Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare be!
Oh, to be in England,
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
read more
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.
There's a woman like a dew-drop,
She's so purer than the purest.
There's a woman like a dew-drop,
She's so purer than the purest.
Oh, the little more, and how much it is!
And the little less, and what worlds away.
Oh, the little more, and how much it is!
And the little less, and what worlds away.
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.
Then I cast loose my buff coat, each halter let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt read more
Then I cast loose my buff coat, each halter let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,
Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer;
Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise bad or good,
'Til at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.
From the sprinkled isles,
Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea.
From the sprinkled isles,
Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea.
