The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Complete: With a Memoir ...

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J. Miller, 1877 - English poetry
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Page 196 - Lucretius — nobler than his mood ! Who dropped his plummet down the broad Deep universe, and said ' No God,
Page 341 - And the first time, I will send A white rosebud for a guerdon, And the second time, a glove ; But the third time — I may bend From my pride, and answer — 'Pardon, If he comes to take my love.
Page 340 - Then, ay, then he shall kneel low, With the red-roan steed anear him Which shall seem to understand, Till I answer, " Rise and go ! For the world must love and fear him Whom I gift with heart and hand.
Page 270 - This earthly noise is too anear, Too loud, and will not let me hear The little harp. My death will soon Make silence.
Page 338 - She has thrown her bonnet by, And her feet she has been dipping In the shallow water's flow; Now she holds them nakedly In her hands, all sleek and dripping, While she rocketh to and fro.
Page 135 - Woe, woe ! to-day's woe and the coming morrow's I cover with one groan. And where is found me A limit to these sorrows ? And yet what word do I say? I have foreknown Clearly all things that should be; nothing done Comes sudden to my soul; and I must bear What is ordained with patience, being aware Necessity doth front the universe With an invincible gesture.
Page 340 - Three times shall a young foot-page Swim the stream and climb the mountain, And kneel down beside my feet — ' Lo, my master sends this gage, Lady, for thy pity's counting ! What wilt thou exchange for it?
Page 218 - ... assigned Wholesome and bitter, Thou art kind, And I am blessed to my mind. " ' Gifted for giving, I receive The maythorn and its scent outgive : I grieve not that I once did grieve. " ' In my large joy of sight and touch Beyond what others count for such, I am content to suffer much. " '/ in<rw — is all the mourner saith, Knowledge by suffering entereth, And Life is perfected by Death.
Page 339 - And the steed shall be red-roan, And the lover shall be noble, With an eye that takes the breath; And the lute he plays upon Shall strike ladies into trouble, As his sword strikes men to death!
Page 350 - And, dear Bertha, let me keep On my hand this little ring, Which at nights, when others sleep, I can still see glittering. Let me wear it out of sight, In the grave,— where it will light All the Dark up, day and night.

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