Lyrical and Dramatic Poems: Selected from the Works of Robert Browning

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Henry Holt, 1883 - 275 pages

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Page 239 - There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound; What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
Page 143 - Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Cocking tails and pricking whiskers, Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives — . Followed the Piper for their lives. From street to street he piped advancing, And step for step they followed dancing, Until they came to the river Weser, Wherein all plunged and perished! • ' -^Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar, Swam across and lived to carry (As he,...
Page 87 - And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall. Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all, Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, Called my Roland his...
Page 111 - In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack All that France saved from the fight whence England bore the bell. Go to Paris : rank on rank Search the heroes flung pell-mell On the Louvre, face and flank ! You shall look long enough ere you come to Herve
Page 83 - Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; "Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast.
Page 249 - No spirit feels waste, Not a muscle is stopped in its playing nor sinew unbraced. Oh, the wild joys of living! the leaping from rock up to rock, The strong rending of boughs from the fir-tree, the cool silver shock Of the plunge in a pool's living water, the hunt of the bear, And the sultriness showing the lion is couched in his lair.
Page 229 - Sixteen years old when she died ! Perhaps she had scarcely heard my name ; It was not her time to love ; beside, Her life had many a hope and aim, Duties enough and little...
Page 101 - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two.
Page 240 - Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; Enough that he heard it once: we shall hear it by and by.
Page 274 - The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go: For the journey is done and the summit attained, And the barriers fall, Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained, The reward of it all. I was ever a fighter, so — one fight more, The best and the last!

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