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All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower.
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
Little
Children
Buttercups
Dower
Buttercup
Wakes
Anew
Gay
Littles
More quotes by Robert Browning
Let friend trust friends, and love demand love's like.
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Believeth with the life, the pain shall stop.
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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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We mortals cross the ocean of this world Each in his average cabin of a life The bests not big, the worst yields elbowroom.
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Smiling the boy fell dead.
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Success in marriage is more than finding the right person: it is being the right person.
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God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.
Robert Browning
how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet
Robert Browning
In this world, who can do a thing, will not And who would do it, cannot, I perceive: Yet the will's somewhat — somewhat, too, the power — And thus we half-men struggle.
Robert Browning
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so life's business being just the terrible choice.
Robert Browning
God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures Boasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with, One to show a woman when he loves her.
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Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.
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Who knows most, doubts most.
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The sad rhyme of the men who proudly clung To their first fault, and withered in their pride.
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Truth is truth howe'er it strike.
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All we have gained then by our unbelief Is a life of doubt diversified by faith, For one of faith diversified by doubt: We called the chess-board white-we call it black.
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How he lies in his rights of a man! Death has done all death can. And absorbed in the new life he leads, He recks not, he heeds Nor his wrong nor my vengeance both strike On his senses alike, And are lost in the solemn and strange Surprise of the change.
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My sun sets to rise again.
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Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.
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The great beacon light God sets in all, the conscience of each bosom.
Robert Browning