Select Poems of Robert Browning

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Harper, 1894 - 200 páginas

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Página 61 - GROW old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in his hand Who saith, "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!
Página 52 - Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace, Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit, Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.
Página 177 - AH, did you once see Shelley plain, And did he stop and speak to you And did you speak to him again ? How strange it seems and new...
Página 99 - And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest!
Página 62 - Rejoice we are allied To That which doth provide And not partake, effect and not receive! A spark disturbs our clod; Nearer we hold of God Who gives, than of His tribes that take, I must believe.
Página 99 - 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...
Página 59 - Ready to twitch the Nymph's last garment off, And Moses with the tables . . . but I know Ye mark me not! What do they whisper thee, Child of my bowels, Anselm?
Página 56 - Life's night begins: let him never come back to us! There would be doubt, hesitation and pain, Forced praise on our part — the glimmer of twilight, Never glad confident morning again!
Página 65 - Here, work enough to watch The Master work, and catch Hints of the proper craft, tricks of the tool's true play.
Página 54 - Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets

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