The Poetic and Dramatic Works of Robert Browning, Том 4

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1892

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Страница 185 - Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear, Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe: But God has a few of us whom he whispers in the ear; The rest may reason and welcome: 'tis we musicians know.
Страница 184 - But here is the finger of God, a flash of the will that can, Existent behind all laws, that made them and, lo, they are ! And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed to man, That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound, but a star.
Страница 184 - There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, 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.
Страница 186 - Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go! Be our joys three-parts pain ! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
Страница 189 - Not on the vulgar mass Called " work," must sentence pass, Things done, that took the eye and had the price; O'er which, from level stand, The low world laid its hand, Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice...
Страница 91 - And as yon tapers dwindle, and strange thoughts Grow, with a certain humming in my ears, About the life before I lived this life, And this life too, popes, cardinals and priests, Saint Praxed at his sermon on the mount...
Страница 71 - The very God! think, Abib; dost thou think? So, the All-Great, were the All-Loving too — So, through the thunder comes a human voice Saying, "O heart I made, a heart beats here! "Face, my hands fashioned, see it in myself! "Thou hast no power nor may'st conceive of mine, "But love I gave thee, with myself to love, "And thou must love me who have died for thee!
Страница 125 - This: no artist lives and loves, that longs not Once, and only once, and for one only, (Ah, the prize!) to find his love a language Fit and fair and simple and sufficient — Using nature that's an art to others, Not, this one time, art that's turned his nature. Ay, of all the artists living, loving, None but would forego his proper dowry, — Does he paint? he fain would write a poem, — Does he write?
Страница 189 - Now, who shall arbitrate? Ten men love what I hate, Shun what I follow, slight what I receive; Ten, who in ears and eyes Match me : we all surmise, They this thing, and I that: whom shall my soul believe? XXIII Not on the vulgar mass Called "work...
Страница 77 - Christ (Whose sad face on the cross sees only this After the passion of a thousand years) Till some poor girl, her apron o'er her head, (Which the intense eyes looked through) came at eve On tiptoe, said a word, dropped in a loaf, Her pair of earrings and a bunch of flowers (The brute took growling), prayed, and so was gone.

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