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Há 5 dias · May And Death. I. I wish that when you died last May, Charles, there had died along with you. Three parts of spring 's delightful things; Ay, and, for me, the fourth part too. II. A foolish thought, and worse, perhaps! There must be many a pair of friends.
Há 3 dias · Songs From Pippa Passes. Day! Faster and more fast, O'er night 's brim, day boils at last: Boils, pure gold, o'er the cloud-cup's brim. Where spurting and suppressed it lay, For not a froth-flake touched the rim. Of yonder gap in the solid gray. Of the eastern cloud, an hour away;
27 de mai. de 2024 · While I am I, and you are you, So long as the world contains us both, Me the loving and you the loth, While the one eludes, must the other pursue. My life is a fault at last, I fear -. It seems too much like a fate, indeed! Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed -. But what if I fail of my purpose here?
9 de mai. de 2024 · The Flower's Name Poem by Robert Browning. Garden-fancies - I. The Flower's Name. Hinders the hinges and makes them wince! To feed and forget it the leaves among. II. To point me a moth on the milk -white flox. I will never think that she passed you by! But yonder, see, where the rock-plants lie!
Há 2 dias · Boot And Saddle. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Rescue my Castle, before the hot day. Brightens the blue from its silvery grey, ( Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”. Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say; Many's the friend there, will listen and pray. “ God 's luck to gallants that strike up the lay,
Há 5 dias · Letters written by and to Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning Supporting Documents Documents consulted in annotating the poets’ correspondence Reviews Reviews of the Brownings’ works published from 1826 through 1890 Persons Correspondents and other persons mentioned in the letters Appendices
Há 4 dias · Browning wrote this poem in 1842 for Macready's son, who was ill.He had also written the Pied Piper of Hamelin at the same time. Crescenzio, the Pope's Legate at the High Council, Trent, Year Fifteen hundred twenty-two, March Twenty-five, intent On writing letters to the Pope till late into the night, Rose, weary, to refresh himself, and saw a monstrous sight: (I give mine Author's very words ...
