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God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.

Robert Browning

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Robert Browning
Age: 77 †
Born: 1812
Born: May 7
Died: 1889
Died: December 12
Dramaturgy
Playwright
Poet
Writer
London
England
Robert Barrett Browning
Browning
Though
Delinquency
Never
Perchance
Rests
Track
God
Reach
Prove
Justice
Tardy

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Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware.
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You never know what life means till you die even throughout life, tis death that makes life live.
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If you can sit at set of sun And count the deeds that you have done And counting find oneself-denying act, one word That eased the heart of him that heard. One glance most kind, Which fell like sunshine where he went, Then you may count that day well spent.
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Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
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A face to lose youth for, to occupy age With the dream of, meet death with.
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Time'swheelsrunsbackor stops: Potterand clayendure.
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Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me (When fortune's malice Lost her Calais): Open my heart, and you will see Graved inside of it 'Italy.'
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The heavens and earth stay as they were my heart Beats as it beat: the truth remains the truth.
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Is your love for the Lord sufficient to give all your time and talents to his work?
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