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artist beauty believe Bells Book Browning's called character Christian criticism death Divine earth edition Elizabeth Barrett Browning English expression eyes face fact faith feeling Fifine genius give hand heart hope human idea ideal illustration individual interest Italy King knowledge leave less letter light lines living London look March master means Meeting mind Miss moral nature never object once Paracelsus Passes passion personality picture play poem poet poetic poetry present printed reader rest Review Ring Robert Browning seems sense Series Society Song Sordello soul speak spirit stand stanzas story things thought Tragedy true truth universal verse whole wife Women writings written
Page 466 - All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good, shall exist: Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power, Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour.
Page 463 - Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
Page 401 - 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.
Page 244 - I STROVE with none, for none was worth my strife; Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art; I warmed both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart.
Page 287 - 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.
Page 277 - And slight withal may be the things which bring Back on the heart the weight which it would fling Aside for ever : it may be a sound — A tone of music — summer's eve — or spring — A flower — the wind — the ocean — which shall wound, Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound ; XXIV.
Page 133 - 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 splendour, soon or late, Will pierce the gloom : I shall emerge one day ! You understand me ? I have said enough ? Fest.
Page 400 - No, indeed! for God above Is great to grant, as mighty to make, And creates the love to reward the love: I claim you still, for my own love's sake!