Robert Browning: Essays and Thoughts

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Scribner & Welford, 1890 - 454 pages

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Page 301 - And bade me creep past. No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements...
Page 17 - Sixteen years old when she died ! Perhaps she had scarcely heard my name ; It was not her time to love ; beside, Her life had many a hope and aim, Duties enough and little...
Page 276 - Someone says, (I know his name, no matter) — so much less ! Well, less is more, Lucrezia : I am judged. There burns a truer light of God in them, In their vexed beating stuffed and stopped-up brain, Heart, or whate'er else, than goes on to prompt This low-pulsed forthright craftsman's hand of mine.
Page 383 - I say, the acknowledgment of God in Christ Accepted by thy reason, solves for thee All questions in the earth and out of it, And has so far advanced thee to be wise.
Page 35 - This : no artist lives and loves, that longs not Once, and only once, and for one only, (Ah, the prize !) to find his love a language Fit and fair and simple and sufficient— Using nature that 's an art to others, Not, this one time, art that's turned his nature.
Page 93 - For one more picture! in a sheet of flame I saw them and I knew them all. And yet Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set, And blew. "Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came.
Page 21 - What if we still ride on, we two With life for ever old yet new, Changed not in kind but in degree, The instant made eternity, And Heaven just prove that I and she Ride, ride together, for ever ride?
Page 38 - Think, the wonder of the moonstruck mortal — When she turns round, comes again in heaven, Opens out anew for worse or better ! Proves she like some portent of an iceberg Swimming full upon the ship it founders...
Page 2 - The thing was my earliest attempt at 'poetry always dramatic in principle, and so many utterances of so many imaginary persons, not mine...
Page 275 - Left foot and right foot, go a double step, Make his flesh liker and his soul more like, Both in their order? Take the prettiest face, The Prior's niece . . . patron-saint — is it so pretty You can't discover if it means hope, fear, Sorrow or joy?

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