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Andrea del Sarto angel Asolo beauty better Bishop Bluphocks Browning's called canibus Childe Roland church cicala Clive Correggio Croisic dare Dark Tower dead death deed drama earth edition Edward Dowden English eyes face fancy fear feel flesh flowers galloped Gandolf girl give God's Greek hair hand hate heart heaven Herve Riel Hipparchus Interlude Jules king laugh leave lips live Lokeren look Luigi Lutwyche Madonna Maffeo Malamocco miles Monsignor morning Mother Natalia never night Nishapur notes nought o'er once Ottima Paracelsus passion Phene Pippa Passes play poem poet Possagno praise RABBI BEN EZRA Robert Browning Rolfe Rolfe's Sebald Shakespeare ship singing smile song soul speak Student sure thee thing thou thought thro tomb turn turret Tydeus Venice voice wall wine women word
Page 172 - Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man. Any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.
Page 61 - 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!
Page 99 - Fear death? — to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, 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.
Page 99 - And bade me creep past. 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. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements...
Page 59 - Ready to twitch the Nymph's last garment off, And Moses with the tables . . . but I know Ye mark me not! What do they whisper thee, Child of my bowels, Anselm?
Page 52 - I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; ' 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. Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place ; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique...
Page 59 - Dying in state and by such slow degrees, I fold my arms as if they clasped a crook, And stretch my feet forth straight as stone can point...
Page 54 - for Aix is in sight!" "How they'll greet us!" — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
Page 35 - Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues? Talk to me of rocks and shoals, me who took the soundings, tell On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell 'Twixt the offing here and Greve where the river disembogues? Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for?