Men and WomenTicknor and Fields, 1856 - 351 ˹éÒ |
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˹éÒ 17
... well off the heights : You've the brown ploughed land before , where the oxen steam and wheeze , And the hills over - smoked behind by the faint gray olive trees . 6 . Is it better in May , I ask 2 UP AT A VILLA - DOWN IN THE CITY . 17.
... well off the heights : You've the brown ploughed land before , where the oxen steam and wheeze , And the hills over - smoked behind by the faint gray olive trees . 6 . Is it better in May , I ask 2 UP AT A VILLA - DOWN IN THE CITY . 17.
˹éÒ 18
Robert Browning. 6 . Is it better in May , I ask you ? you've summer all at once ; In a day he leaps complete with a few strong April suns ! Mid the sharp short emerald wheat , scarce risen three fingers well , The wild tulip , at end of ...
Robert Browning. 6 . Is it better in May , I ask you ? you've summer all at once ; In a day he leaps complete with a few strong April suns ! Mid the sharp short emerald wheat , scarce risen three fingers well , The wild tulip , at end of ...
˹éÒ 21
... better prevention of scandals . Bang , whang , whang , goes the drum , tootle - te - tootle the fife . Oh , a day in the city - square , there is no such pleasure in life ! A WOMAN'S LAST WORD . 1 . LET's contend no UP AT A VILLA 21 ...
... better prevention of scandals . Bang , whang , whang , goes the drum , tootle - te - tootle the fife . Oh , a day in the city - square , there is no such pleasure in life ! A WOMAN'S LAST WORD . 1 . LET's contend no UP AT A VILLA 21 ...
˹éÒ 35
... better , painted - better to us , Which is the same thing . Art was given for that - God uses us to help each other so , Lending FRA LIPPO LIPPI . 35.
... better , painted - better to us , Which is the same thing . Art was given for that - God uses us to help each other so , Lending FRA LIPPO LIPPI . 35.
˹éÒ 52
Robert Browning. 32 . But at afternoon or almost eve ' Tis better ; then the silence grows To that degree , you half believe It must get rid of what it knows , Its bosom does so heave . 33 . Hither we walked , then , side by side , Arm ...
Robert Browning. 32 . But at afternoon or almost eve ' Tis better ; then the silence grows To that degree , you half believe It must get rid of what it knows , Its bosom does so heave . 33 . Hither we walked , then , side by side , Arm ...
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˹éÒ 14 - But the time will come, at last it will, When, Evelyn Hope, what meant, I shall say, In the lower earth, in the years long still, That body and soul so pure and gay? Why your hair was amber, I shall divine, And your mouth of your own geranium's red, And what you would do with me, in fine, In the new life come in the old one's stead.
˹éÒ 266 - And the sleep in the dried river-channel where bulrushes tell That the water was wont to go warbling so softly and well. How good is man's life, the mere living ! how fit to employ All the heart and the soul and the senses for ever in joy!
˹éÒ 347 - I shall never, in the years remaining, Paint you pictures, no, nor carve you statues, Make you music that should all-express me; So it seems: I stand on my attainment. This of verse alone, one life allows me; Verse and nothing else have I to give you Other heights in other lives, God willing: All the gifts from all the heights, your own, love!
˹éÒ 183 - 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...
˹éÒ 133 - Might she have loved me? Just as well She might have hated, who can tell? Where had I been now if the worst befell? And here we are riding, she and I. Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds?
˹éÒ 280 - Could I wrestle to raise him from sorrow, grow poor to enrich, To fill up his life, starve my own out, I would — knowing which, I know that my service is perfect.
˹éÒ 104 - What in the midst lay but the Tower itself? The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart, Built of brown stone, without a counterpart In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf He strikes on, only when the timbers start.
˹éÒ 102 - Which, while I forded, — good saints, how I feared To set my foot upon a dead man's cheek, Each step, or feel the spear I thrust to seek For hollows, tangled in his hair ,or beard ! — It may have been a water-rat I speared, But, ugh ! it sounded like a baby's shriek.
˹éÒ 41 - Then they left you for their pleasure: till in due time, one by one. Some with lives that came to nothing, some with deeds as well undone. Death came tacitly and took them where they never see the sun.
˹éÒ 19 - By and by there's the travelling doctor gives pills, lets blood, draws teeth ; Or the Pulcinello-trumpet breaks up the market beneath. At the post-office such a scene-picture— the new play, piping hot ! And a notice how, only this morning, three liberal thieves were shot. Above it, behold the Archbishop's most fatherly of rebukes, And beneath, with his crown and his lion, some little new law of the Duke's ! Or a sonnet with flowery marge, to the reverend Don So-and-so Who is Dante, Boccaccio, Petrarca,...