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Robert Browning
Quote #4
Deeds let escape are never to be done.
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And gain is gain, however small.
The year's at the spring, And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hill-side's dew-pearl'd; The lark's on the wing; The snail's on th…
God is the perfect poet, Who in his person acts his own creations.
Rats! They fought the dogs and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup…
Autumn wins you best by this its mute Appeal to sympathy for its decay.
Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure, this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up.
Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds?
We loved, sir - used to meet: How sad and bad and mad it was - But then, how it was sweet!
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