English poet (1812-1889)
A minute's success pays the failure of years.
ROBERT BROWNING
prologue, Apollo and the Fates
All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist.
ROBERT BROWNING
Abt Vogler
I count life just a stuff
To try the soul's strength on.
ROBERT BROWNING
In a Balcony
What so wild as words are?
ROBERT BROWNING
A Woman's Last Word
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made.
ROBERT BROWNING
Rabbi ben Ezra
If you join two lives, there is oft a scar.
They are one and one, with a shadowy third;
One near one is too far.
ROBERT BROWNING
By the Fireside
So free we seem, so fettered fast we are!
ROBERT BROWNING
Andrea del Sarto
The only fault's with time;
All men become good creatures: but so slow!
ROBERT BROWNING
Luria
I give the fight up: let there be an end,
A privacy, an obscure nook for me.
I want to be forgotten even by God.
ROBERT BROWNING
Paracelsus
Love, hope, fear, faith--these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character.
ROBERT BROWNING
Paracelsus
God is the perfect poet,
Who in his person acts his own creations.
ROBERT BROWNING
Paracelsus
Why comes temptation but for man to meet
And master and make crouch beneath his foot,
And so be pedestaled in triumph?
ROBERT BROWNING
The Ring and the Book
If you get simple beauty and nought else,
You get about the best thing God invents.
ROBERT BROWNING
Fra Lippo Lippi
It is the glory and good of Art,
That Art remains the one way possible
Of speaking truths, to mouths like mine at least.
ROBERT BROWNING
The Ring and the Book
Truth never hurts the teller.
ROBERT BROWNING
Fifine at the Fair
Lofty designs must close in like effects.
ROBERT BROWNING
A Grammarian's Funeral
All we have gained then by our unbelief
Is a life of doubt diversified by faith,
For one of faith diversified by doubt:
We called the chess-board white -- we call it black.
ROBERT BROWNING
Bishop Blougram's Apology
What a thing friendship is, world without end!
ROBERT BROWNING
The Flight of the Duchess
Such ever was love's way: to rise, it stoops.
ROBERT BROWNING
A Death in the Desert
Ignorance is not innocence but sin.
ROBERT BROWNING
The Inn Album