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What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?

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
Kissing
Lips
Stop
Wonder
Left
Soul

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Praise is deeper than the lips
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Imperfection means perfection hid.
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I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive,- what time, what circuit first, I ask not but unless God send his hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time.
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The trouble that most of us find with the modern matched sets of clubs is that they don't really seem to know any more about the game than the old ones did.
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Tis looking downward makes one dizzy.
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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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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.
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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.
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Into the street the piper stepped, Smiling first a little smile As if he knew what magic slept In his quiet pipe the while. And the piper advanced And the children followed.
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Lofty designs must close in like effects.
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How good is life, the mere living!
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Good strong thick stupefying incense-smoke!
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When the liquor's out, why clink the cannikin?
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Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar.
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But God has a few of us to whom he whispers in the ear The rest may reason and welcome 'tis we musicians know.
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Grow old with me! The best is yet to be.
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Smiling the boy fell dead.
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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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Twere too absurd to slight For the hereafter the todays delight!
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As is your sort of mind, So is your sort of search: You will find what you desire.
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