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For Sudden The Worst Turns The Best To The Brave, The Black Minute's At End, And The Elements' Rage, The Fiend Voices That Rave, Shall Dwindle, Shall Blend, Shall Change, Shall Become First A Peace Out Of Pain, Then A Light, Then Thy Breast, O Thou Soul Of My Soul! I Shall Clasp Thee Again, And With God Be The Rest!

-Robert Browning

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For Sudden The Worst

Robert Browning

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For Sudden The Worst Turns The Best To The Brave, The Black Minute's At End, And The Elements' Rage, The Fiend Voices That Rave, Shall Dwindle, Shall Blend, Shall Change, Shall Become First A Peace Out Of Pain, Then A Light, Then Thy Breast, O Thou Soul Of My Soul! I Shall Clasp Thee Again, And With God Be The Rest!

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Night Conceals A World But Reveals A Universe.

Each Life Unfulfilled, You See; It Hangs Still, Patchy And Scrappy: We Have Not Sighed Deep, Laughed Free, Starved, Feasted, Despaired,—been Happy.

Paracelsus At Times I Almost Dream I Too Have Spent A Life The Sages’ Way, And Tread Once More Familiar Paths. Perchance I Perished In An Arrogant Self-reliance Ages Ago; And In That Act A Prayer For One More Chance Went Up So Earnest, So Instinct With Better Light Let In By Death, That Life Was Blotted Out — Not So Completely But Scattered Wrecks Enough Of It Remain, Dim Memories, As Now, When Once More Seems The Goal In Sight Again.

To Me At Least Was Never Evening Yet, But Seemed Far Beautifuller Than Its Day.

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Where The Apple Reddens Never Pry - Lest We Lose Our Edens, Eve And I.

Make Us Happy And You Make Us Good.

Was There Nought Better Than To Enjoy? No Feat Which, Done, Would Make Time Break, And Let Us Pent-up Creatures Through Into Eternity, Our Due? No Forcing Earth Teach Heaven's Employ?

The Best Things In Life Can Never Be Kept; They Must Be Given Away. A Smile, A Kiss, And Love If You Are Asking If I'd Hurt You, The Answer Is Never. If You Are Asking If I Love U,the Answer Is Forever. If You Are Asking If I Want U,the Answer Is I Do. If You Are Asking What I Value Most, The Answer Is You Grow Old Along With Me, The Best Is Yet To Be.

Oh, Good Gigantic Smile O' The Brown Old Earth, This Autumn Morning! How He Sets His Bones To Bask I' The Sun, And Thrusts Out Knees And Feet. From The Ripple To Run Over In Its Mirth

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The Moment Eternal - Just That And No More - When Ecstasy's Utmost We Clutch At The Core While Cheeks Burn, Arms Open, Eyes Shut, And Lips Meet!

Oh, To Be In England Now That April's There.

April And Spring

We Shall March Prospering,-not Thro' His Presence; Songs May Inspirit Us,-not From His Lyre; Deeds Will Be Done,-while He Boasts His Quiescence, Still Bidding Crouch Whom The Rest Bade Aspire.

The Aim, If Reached Or Not, Makes Great The Life: Try To Be Shakespeare, Leave The Rest To Fate!

What? Was Man Made A Wheel-work To Wind Up, And Be Discharged, And Straight Wound Up Anew? No! Grown, His Growth Lasts; Taught, He Ne'er Forgets: May Learn A Thousand Things, Not Twice The Same.

When The Liquor's Out, Why Clink The Cannikin?

Any Nose May Ravage With Impunity A Rose.

All Poetry Is Difficult To Read - The Sense Of It Anyhow.

If All The World Is A Stage And Life Is Just A Play Upon It, Get Me Two Seats In The Stalls.

I, Painting From Myself And To Myself, Know What I Do, Am Unmoved By Men's Blame Or Their Praise Either.

Pleasure Must Succeed To Pleasure, Else Past Pleasure Turns To Pain

Pippa's Song The Year's At The Spring The Day's At The Morn Morning's At Seven, The Hill Side's Dew-pearled The Lark's On The Wing The Snail's On The Thorn God's In His Heaven- All's Right With The World

God Is In His Heaven, All's Right With The World.

A Man In Armour Is His Armour's Slave.

Things Are Where Things Are, And, As Fate Has Willed, So Shall They Be Fulfilled.

I Show You Doubt, To Prove That Faith Exists.

No Work Begun Shall Ever Pause For Death.

Look Not Down But Up!

Our Aspirations Are Our Responsibilities.

Tis Looking Downward Makes One Dizzy.

Youth Means Love, Vows Can't Change Nature, Priests Are Only Men.

Earth Changes, But Thy Soul And God Stand Sure.

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.

I Want To Know A Butcher Paints, A Baker Rhymes For His Pursuit, Candlestick-maker Much Acquaints His Soul With Song, Or, Haply Mute, Blows Out His Brains Upon The Flute.

In This World, Who Can Do A Thing, Will Not; And Who Would Do It, Cannot, I Perceive: Yet The Will's Somewhat — Somewhat, Too, The Power — And Thus We Half-men Struggle.

Needs There Groan A World In Anguish Just To Teach Us Sympathy?

Life Is An Empty Dream.

Of Power Does Man Possess No Particle: Of Knowledge-just So Much As Show That Still It Ends In Ignorance On Every Side.

As Is Your Sort Of Mind, So Is Your Sort Of Search: You Will Find What You Desire.

Our Interest's On The Dangerous Edge Of Things. The Honest Thief, The Tender Murderer, The Superstitious Atheist.

Truth Never Hurts The Teller.

Escape Me? Never, Beloved! While I Am I, And You Are You.

Genius Has Somewhat Of The Infantine; But Of The Childish Not A Touch Or Taint.

Such Ever Was Love's Way: To Rise, It Stoops.

If Two Lives Join, There Is Oft A Scar. They Are One And One, With A Shadowy Third; One Near One Is Too Far.

What's The Earth With All Its Art, Verse, Music, Worth — Compared With Love, Found, Gained, And Kept?

Wedding Anniversary

But Little Do Or Can The Best Of Us: That Little Is Achieved Through Liberty.

The Best Way To Excape His Ire Is, Not To Seem Too Happy.

'tis Only When They Spring To Heaven That Angels Reveal Themselves To You.

I Hear You Reproach, "but Delay Was Best, For Their End Was A Crime." Oh, A Crime Will Do As Well, I Reply, To Serve For A Test As A Virtue Golden Through And Through, Sufficient To Vindicate Itself And Prove Its Worth At A Moment's View! . . . . . . Let A Man Contend To The Uttermost For His Life's Set Prize, Be It What It Will! The Counter Our Lovers Staked Was Lost As Surely As If It Were Lawful Coin; And The Sin I Impute To Each Frustrate Ghost Is-the Unlit Lamp And The Ungirt Loin, Though The End In Sight Was A Vice, I Say.

When A Man's Busy, Why Leisure Strikes Him As Wonderful Pleasure: 'faith, And At Leisure Once Is He? Straightway He Wants To Be Busy.

Ah, Love, - You Are My Unutterable Blessing.....i Am In Full Sunshine Now.

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Who Knows Most, Doubts Most.

I Do What Many Dream Of, All Their Lives

Stung By The Splendour Of A Sudden Thought.

God! Thou Art Love! I Build My Faith On That.

What's Come To Perfection Perishes. Things Learned On Earth We Shall Practice In Heaven; Works Done Least Rapidly Art Most Cherishes.

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Autumn Wins You Best By This Its Mute Appeal To Sympathy For Its Decay.

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Women Hate A Debt As Men A Gift.

And Let Them Pass, As They Will Too Soon, With The Bean-flowers' Boon, And The Blackbird's Tune, And May, And June!

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Grow Old Along With Me! The Best Is Yet To Be, The Last Of Life, For Which The First Was Made. Our Times Are In His Hand Who Saith, 'a Whole I Planned, Youth Shows But Half; Trust God: See All, Nor Be Afraid!

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Lofty Designs Must Close In Like Effects.

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No! Let Me Taste The Whole Of It, Fare Like My Peers, The Heroes Of Old, Bear The Brunt, In A Minute Pay Glad Life's Arrears Of Pain, Darkness And Cold.

A Whole I Planned, Youth Shows But Half; Trust God: See All, Nor Be Afraid!

Best Is Yet To Come

He Who Did Well In War Just Earns The Right, To Begin Doing Well In Peace.

The Great Mind Knows The Power Of Gentleness.

A Pretty Woman's Worth Some Pains To See, Nor Is She Spoiled, I Take It, If A Crown Completes The Forehead Pale And Tresses Pure.

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There's A New Tribunal Now Higher Than God's -the Educated Man's!

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It Was Roses, Roses, All The Way, With Myrtle Mixed In My Path Like Mad.

I Judge People By What They Might Be, - Not Are, Nor Will Be.

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How Good Is Man's Life, The Mere Living! How Fit To Employ All The Heart And The Soul And The Senses Forever In Joy!

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What I Aspired To Be And Was Not, Comforts Me.

Man Seeks His Own Good At The Whole World's Cost.

There Is No Truer Truth Obtainable By Man Than Comes Of Music

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How Strange Now, Looks The Life He Makes Us Lead; So Free We Seem, So Fettered Fast We Are!

Praise Is Deeper Than The Lips

Generations Pass While Some Tree Stands, And Old Families Last Not Three Oaks.

Only I Discern Infinite Passion, And The Pain Of Finite Hearts That Yearn.

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They Are Perfect; How Else?-they Shall Never Change: We Are Faulty; Why Not?-we Have Time In Store.

And I Have Written Three Books On The Soul, Proving Absurd All Written Hitherto, And Putting Us To Ignorance Again.

Death Was Past, Life Not Come: So He Waited.

Poetry, Like Love, Is Something We Never Truly Say Goodbye To.

Truth Is Within Ourselves; It Takes No Rise From Outward Things, Whate'er You May Believe. There Is An Inmost Centre In Us All, Where Truth Abides In Fulness; And Around, Wall Upon Wall, The Gross Flesh Hems It In, This Perfect, Clear Perception-which Is Truth. A Baffling And Perverting Carnal Mesh Binds It, And Makes All Error: And To Know Rather Consists In Opening Out A Way Whence The Imprisoned Splendour May Escape, Than In Effecting Entry For A Light Supposed To Be Without.

Mothers, Wives And Maids, These Be The Tools With Which Priests Manage Men.

O Never Star Was Lost; Here We All Aspire To Heaven And There Is Heaven Above Us. If I Stoop Into A Dark Tremendous Sea Of Cloud, It Is But For A Time; I Press God's Lamp Close To My Breast; Its Splendor Soon Or Late Will Pierce The Gloom. I Shall Emerge Some Day.

No, When The Fight Begins Within Himself, / A Man's Worth Something.

Go In Thy Native Innocence, Rely On What Thou Hast Of Virtue, Summon All, For God Towards Thee Hath Done His Part, Do Thine.

I Walked A Mile With Pleasure; She Chattered All The Way. But Left Me None The Wiser For All She Had To Say. I Walked A Mile With Sorrow And Ne'er A Word Said She; But Oh, The Things I Learned From Her When Sorrow Walked With Me!

One And All We Lend An Ear-nay, Science Takes Thereto- Encourages The Meanest Who Has Racked Nature Until He Gains From Her Some Fact, To State What Truth Is From His Point Of View, Mere Pin-point Though It Be: Since Many Such Conduce To Make A Whole, She Bids Our Friend Come Forward Unabashed And Haply Lend His Little Life-experience To Our Much Of Modern Knowledge.

Therefore I Summon Age / To Grant Youth's Heritage.

Just For A Handful Of Silver He Left Us, Just For A Riband To Stick In His Coat.

Man Partly Is And Wholly Hopes To Be.

There Are Three Ways Of Learning Golf: By Study, Which Is The Most Wearisome; By Imitation, Which Is The Most Fallacious; And By Experience, Which Is The Most Bitter.

At Last Awake From Life, That Insane Dream We Take For Waking Now.

The Peerless Cup Afloat Of The Lake-lily Is An Urn Some Nymph Swims Bearing High Above Her Head.

Day! Faster And More Fast. O'er Night's Brim, Day Boils At Last.

Oh, The Little More, And How Much It Is! And The Little Less, And What Worlds Away.

Truth That Peeps Over The Glass's Edge When Dinner's Done.

In Heaven I Yearn For Knowledge, Account All Else Inanity; On Earth I Confess An Itch For The Praise Of Fools - That's Vanity

A Minute's Success Pays The Failure Of Years.

Days Decrease, / And Autumn Grows, Autumn In Everything.

I Am Grown Peaceful As Old Age Tonight.

Hatred And Cark And Care, What Place Have They / In Yon Blue Liberality Of Heaven?.

O Lyric Love, Half Angel And Half Bird. And All A Wonder And A Wild Desire.

Good To Forgive, Best To Forget.

Boot, Saddle, To Horse, And Away!

That We Devote Ourselves To God, Is Seen In Living Just As Though No God There Were.

That Low Man Seeks A Little Thing To Do, Sees It And Does It: This High Man, With A Great Thing To Pursue, Dies Ere He Knows It. That Low Man Goes On Adding One To One, His Hundred's Soon Hit: This High Man, Aiming At A Million, Misses An Unit. That, Has The World Here-should He Need The Next, Let The World Mind Him! This, Throws Himself On God, And Unperplext Seeking Shall Find Him.

My Business Is Not To Remake Myself, But To Make The Absolute Best Of What God Made.

Inscribe All Human Effort With One Word, Artistry's Haunting Curse, The Incomplete!

I Count Life Just A Stuff To Try The Soul's Strength On.

All Will Be Gay When Noontide Wakes Anew The Buttercups, The Little Children's Dower.

How Sad And Bad And Mad It Was - But Then, How It Was Sweet

Measure Your Mind's Height By The Shade It Casts.

You Never Know What Life Means Till You Die; Even Throughout Life, Tis Death That Makes Life Live.

Time'swheelsrunsbackor Stops: Potterand Clayendure.

In The First Is The Last, In Thy Will Is My Power To Believe.

We Find Great Things Are Made Of Little Things, And Little Things Go Lessening Till At Last Comes God Behind Them.

What Youth Deemed Crystal, Age Finds Out Was Dew.

And Inasmuch As Feeling, The East's Gift, Is Quick And Transient,- Comes, And Lo! Is Gone, While Northern Thought Is Slow And Durable.

Where The Heart Lies, Let The Brain Lie Also.

Silence 'tis Awe Decrees.

Shakespeare Was Of Us, Milton Was Of Us, Burns, Shelley, Were With Us. They Watch From Their Graves!

Unless You Can Love, As The Angels May, With The Breadth Of Heaven Betwixt You; Unless You Can Dream That His Faith Is Fast, Through Behoving And Unbeloving; Unless You Can Die When The Dream Is Past- Oh, Never Call It Loving!

So, Fall Asleep Love, Loved By Me... For I Know Love, I Am Loved By Thee.

The Curious Crime, The Fine Felicity And Flower Of Wickedness.

How Well I Know What I Mean To Do When The Long Dark Autumn Evenings Come, And Where, My Soul, Is Thy Pleasant Hue? With The Music Of All Thy Voices, Dumb In Life’s November Too! I Shall Be Found By The Fire, Suppose, O’er A Great Wise Book As Beseemeth Age, While The Shutters Flap As The Cross-wind Blows, And I Turn The Page, And I Turn The Page, Not Verse Now, Only Prose!

Outside Are The Storms And Strangers: We — Oh, Close, Safe, Warm Sleep I And She, — I And She!

T'was A Thief Said The Last Kind Word To Christ. Christ Took The Kindness And Forgave The Theft.

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.

The Ultimate, Angels' Law, Indulging Every Instinct Of The Soul There Where Law, Life, Joy, Impulse Are One Thing!

I Have Lived, And Seen God's Hand Thro A Life Time, And All Was For The Best.

Faultless To A Fault.

Let Friend Trust Friends, And Love Demand Love's Like.

The World And Life's Too Big To Pass For A Dream

In The Morning Of The World, When Earth Was Nigher Heaven Than Now.

Death: The Grand Perhaps.

Stand Still, True Poet That You Are! I Know You; Let Me Try And Draw You. Some Night You'll Fail Us: When Afar You Rise, Remember One Man Saw You, Knew You, And Named A Star!

Ignorance Is Not Innocence But Sin.

Purity And Innocence

And Gain Is Gain, However Small.

Finds Progress, Man's Distinctive Mark Alone, Not God's, And Not The Beast's; God Is, They Are, Man Partly Is, And Wholly Hopes To Be.

I Think, Am Sure, A Brother's Love Exceeds All The World's Loves In Its Unworldliness.

When Is Man Strong Until He Feels Alone?

That Great Brow And The Spirit-small Hand Propping It.

Never The Time And The Place And The Loved One All Together.

Why Stay On The Earth Except To Grow.

What Of Soul Was Left, I Wonder, When The Kissing Had To Stop?

What Joy Is Better Than The News Of Friends?

One Who Never Turned His Back But Marched Breast Forward, Never Doubted Clouds Would Break, Never Dreamed, Though Right Were Worsted, Wrong Would Triumph, Held We Fall To Rise, Are Baffled To Fight Better, Sleep To Wake.

The Past Is Gained, Secure, And On Record.

Ah, But A Man's Reach Should Exceed His Grasp, Or What's A Heaven For?

It's Like Those Eerie Stories Nurses Tell, Of How Some Actor On A Stage Played Death, With Pasteboard Crown, Sham Orb And Tinselled Dart, And Called Himself The Monarch Of The World; Then, Going In The Tire-room Afterward, Because The Play Was Done, To Shift Himself, Got Touched Upon The Sleeve Familiarly, The Moment He Had Shut The Closet Door, By Death Himself. Thus God Might Touch A Pope At Unawares, Ask What His Baubles Mean, And Whose Part He Presumed To Play Just Now. Best Be Yourself, Imperial, Plain And True!

Progress Is The Law Of Life: Man Is Not Man As Yet.

All's Love, Yet All's Law.

The Candid Incline To Surmise Of Late That The Christian Faith Proves False.

Thought Is The Soul Of Act.

But Facts Are Facts And Flinch Not.

Have You Found Your Life Distasteful? My Life Did, And Does, Smack Sweet. Was Your Youth Of Pleasure Wasteful? Mine I Saved And Hold Complete. Do Your Joys With Age Diminish? When Mine Fail Me, I'll Complain. Must In Death Your Daylight Finish? My Sun Sets To Rise Again.

Are There Not, Dear Michael, Two Points In The Adventure Of The Diver,- One, When A Beggar He Prepares To Plunge; One, When A Prince He Rises With His Pearl? Festus, I Plunge.

Rats They Fought The Dogs And Killed The Cats, And Bit The Babies In The Cradles, And Ate The Cheeses Out Of The Vats, And Licked The Soup From The Cook's Own Ladles. Split Open The Kegs Of Salted Sprats, Made Nests Inside Men's Sunday Hats, And Even Spoiled The Women's Chats By Drowning Their Speaking With Shrieking And Squeaking In Fifty Different Sharps And Flats.

Art Remains The One Way Possible Of Speaking Truth.

Oh Never Star Was Lost Here But It Rose Afar.

Grow Old With Me. The Best Is Yet To Be. The Last Of Life For Which The First Was Made.

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