When the fight begins within himself, a man's worth something.
Robert BrowningMy first thought was, he lied in every word,
That hoary cripple, with malicious eye
Askance to watch the working of his lie
On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford
Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored
Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.
Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.
Robert BrowningJust when I seemed about to learn!
Where is the thread now? Off again!
The old trick! Only I discern -
Infinite passion, and the pain
Of finite hearts that yearn.
What a name! Was it love or praise?
Speech half-asleep or song half-awake?
I must learn Spanish, one of these days,
Only for that slow sweet name's sake.
What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew
Robert BrowningTags: age poetry youth meaning growth
Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things. The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist.
Robert BrowningThat moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened the next tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss . . .
One taste of the old time sets all to rights.
Robert BrowningTake away love and our earth is a tomb.
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