Loading...
en
English Español Français Italiano

Robert Browning

Misconceptions

.
 
   This is a spray the Bird clung to,
     Making it blossom with pleasure,
   Ere the high tree-top she sprang to,
     Fit for her nest and her treasure.
     Oh, what a hope beyond measure
Was the poor spray’s, which the flying feet hung to,—-
So to be singled out, built in, and sung to!
 
 II.
 
   This is a heart the Queen leant on,
     Thrilled in a minute erratic,
   Ere the true bosom she bent on,
     Meet for love’s regal dalmatic.
     Oh, what a fancy ecstatic
Was the poor heart’s, ere the wanderer went on—-
Love to be saved for it, proffered to, spent on!
 
* 1  A vestment used by ecclesiastics, and formerly
*    by senators and persons of high rank.

#EnglishWriters #Victorian

Other works by Robert Browning...
A Wall

O the old wall here! How I could… Life in a long midsummer day, My feet confined to a plot of gras… My eyes from a wall not once away! And lush and lithe do the creepers…
The Lady and the Painter

She. Yet womanhood you reverence, So you profess! He. Wi… She. Of which fact this is eviden… To help Art-study,—for some dole
 1
Song From 'Paracelsus’

HEAP cassia, sandal-buds and str…    Of labdanum, and aloe-balls, Smear’d with dull nard an Indian…    From out her hair: such balsam…    Down sea-side mountain pedestal…
The Real and True and Sure

Marriage on earth seems such a cou… Mere imitation of the inimitable: In heaven we have the real and tru… ’Tis there they neither marry nor… In marriage but are as the angels:…
Any Wife to Any Husband

MY LOVE, this is the bitterest,… Who art all truth and who dost lov… As thine eyes say, as thy voice br… Shouldst love so truly and couldst… A whole long life through, had but…
Cavalier Tunes

. MARCHING ALONG. Kentish Sir Byng stood for his K… Bidding the crop-headed Parliamen… And, pressing a troop unable to st… And see the rogues flourish and ho…
The Year’s at the Spring

The year’s at the spring, And day’s at the morn; Morning’s at seven; The hill-side’s dew-pearled; The lark’s on the wing;
Natural Magic

All I can say is—I saw it! The room was as bare as your hand. I locked in the swarth little lady… From the head to the foot of her—w… ‘No Nautch shall cheat me,’ said…
Asolando: Prologue

“THE Poet’s age is sad: for why? In youth, the natural world could… No common object but his eye At once involved with alien glow— His own soul’s iris-bow.
The Lost Leader

Just for a handful of silver he le… Just for a riband to stick in his… Found the one gift of which fortun… Lost all the others she lets us de… They, with the gold to give, doled…
 1
The Wanderers

OVER the sea our galleys went, With cleaving prows in order brave To a speeding wind and a bounding…    A gallant armament: Each bark built out of a forest-tr…
In a Year

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

“So say the foolish!” Say the foo… “Flower she is, my rose”—or else,… Or perhaps, “Yon maid-moon, bless… That art thou!”—to them, belike: n… “Hush, rose, blush! no balm like b…
Women and Roses

I dream of a red-rose tree. And which of its roses three Is the dearest rose to me? II. Round and round, like a dance of s…
Parting at Morning

Round the cape of a sudden came th… And the sun looked over the mounta… And straight was a path of gold fo… And the need of a world of men for…



Top