Author: Robert Browning

Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity! Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back? Nephews sons mine ah God, I know […]

I TRUTH is within ourselves; it takes no rise From outward things, whate’er you may believe. There is an inmost […]

Never any more, While I live, Need I hope to see his face As before. Once his love grown chill, […]

I. I dream of a red-rose tree. And which of its roses three Is the dearest rose to me? II. […]

Fear death?-to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts […]

The moth’s kiss, first! Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure, this eve, How my face, […]

I. So, I shall see her in three days And just one night, but nights are short, Then two long […]

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing: And, pressing a troop unable to stoop And […]

All the breath and the bloom of the year in the bag of one bee: All the wonder and wealth […]

THUS the Mayne glideth Where my Love abideth; Sleep ‘s no softer: it proceeds On through lawns, on through meads, […]

I. Oh, what a dawn of day! How the March sun feels like May! All is blue again After last […]

O God, where does this tend-these struggling aims? What would I have? What is this ‘sleep’, which seems To bound […]

I. Let them fight it out, friend! things have gone too far. God must judge the couple: leave them as […]

(As Distinguished by an Italian Person of Quality) I Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare, […]

All’s over, then: does truth sound bitter As one at first believes? Hark, ’tis the sparrows’ good-night twitter About your […]