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, […]