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Over my head his arm he flung, Against the world.

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
Head
World
Flung
Friendship
Arms

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A lion may die of an ass's kick.
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I want to know a butcher paints, A baker rhymes for his pursuit, Candlestick-maker much acquaints His soul with song, or, haply mute, Blows out his brains upon the flute.
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Be sure they sleep not whom God needs.
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Progress is The law of life: man is not Man as yet.
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All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower.
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What I aspired to be and was not, comforts me.
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You should not take a fellow eight years old and make him swear to never kiss the girls.
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Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.
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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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The common problem, yours, mine, everyone's Is ? not to fancy what were fair in life Provided it could be ? but, finding first What may be, then find how to make it fair Up to our means.
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Sorrow, the heart must bear, Sits in the home of each, conspicuous there. Many a circumstance, at least, Touches the very breast. For those Whom any sent away,--he knows: And in the live man's stead, Armor and ashes reach The house of each.
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I count life just a stuff To try the soul's strength on.
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That great brow And the spirit-small hand propping it.
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Time'swheelsrunsbackor stops: Potterand clayendure.
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Of what I call God, And fools call Nature.
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Truth that peeps Over the glass's edge when dinner's done.
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All good things Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul!
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Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.
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Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell!
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Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her- Next time, herself!-not the trouble behind her
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