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Robert Browning

Robert Browning

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;
The snail’s on the thorn;
God’s in his Heaven—
All’s right with the world!

#English #Victorians #XIXCentury

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Other works by Robert Browning...
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…
Another Way of Love

June was not over Though past the fall, And the best of her roses Had yet to blow, When a man I know
How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix

I SPRANG to the stirrup, and J… I galloped, Dirck galloped, we ga… ‘Good speed!’ cried the watch, as… ‘Speed!’ echoed the wall to us gal… Behind shut the postern, the light…
Andrea del Sarto

But do not let us quarrel any more… No, my Lucrezia; bear with me for… Sit down and all shall happen as y… You turn your face, but does it br… I’ll work then for your friend’s f…
A Panoramic View of Florence from Bellosguardo, by Thomas Patch
Old Pictures in Florence

THE MORN when first it thunders… The eel in the pond gives a leap,… As I leaned and looked over the a… Of the villa-gate this warm March… No flash snapped, no dumb thunder…
 1
Epilogue to Asolando

At the midnight in the silence of… When you set your fancies free, Will they pass to where—by death,… Low he lies who once so loved you,… —Pity me?
Abt Volger

(after he has been extemporizin… Would that the structure brave, th… Bidding my organ obey, calling its… Claiming each slave of the sound,… Armies of angels that soar, legion…
Porphyria’s Lover

The rain set early in to-night, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spit… And did its worst to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break…
A Serenade at the Villa

That was I, you heard last night, When there rose no moon at all, Nor, to pierce the strained and ti… Tent of heaven, a planet small: Life was dead and so was light.
Arcades Ambo

A. You blame me that I ran away? Why, Sir, the enemy advanced: Balls flew about, and—who can say But one, if I stood firm, had gla… In my direction? Cowardice?
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…
Song

Nay but you, who do not love her, Is she not pure gold, my mistress? Holds earth aught—speak truth—abov… Aught like this tress, see, and th… And this last fairest tress of all…
Lost Mistress, The

All’s over, then: does truth sound… As one at first believes? Hark, 'tis the sparrows’ good-nigh… About your cottage eaves! II.
The Death of Chatterton, by Henry Wallis
After

Take the cloak from his face, and… Let the corpse do its worst! How he lies in his rights of a man… Death has done all death can. And, absorbed in the new life he l…
 1
Bad Dreams

Last night I saw you in my sleep: And how your charm of face was cha… I asked, “Some love, some faith y… You answered, “Faith gone, love e… Whereat I woke—a twofold bliss:



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