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Quotes by S. E. B. Browning
Walls must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.— filed under Flowers-Ivy
For none can express thee, though all should approve thee. I love thee so, Dear, that I only can love thee.— filed under Love
As the moths around a taper, As the bees around a rose, As the gnats around a vapour, So the spirits group and close Round about a holy childhood, as if drinking its repose.— filed under Angels
The beautiful seems right By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong Because of weakness.— filed under Beauty
The essence of all beauty, I call love, The attribute, the evidence, and end, The consummation to the inward sense Of beauty apprehended from without, I still call love.— filed under Beauty
Greenwood. And there my little doves did sit With feathers softly brown And glittering eyes that showed their right To general Nature's deep delight.— filed under Birds-Cuckoo
Lark. The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars.— filed under Birds-Lark
Germany. Under the Linden. Owl. The large white owl that with eye is blind, That hath sate for years in the old tree hollow. Is carried away in a gust of wind.— filed under Birds-Owl
Sea Bird. How joyously the young sea-mew Lay dreaming on the waters blue, Whereon our little bark had thrown A little shade, the only one; But shadows ever man pursue.— filed under Birds-Sea Bird
Sowing and Reaping Roses. Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, Half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, And flare up bodily, wings and all.— filed under Blushes
Books, books, books! I had found the secret of a garret room Piled high with cases in my father's name; Piled high, packed large,-where, creeping in and out Among the giant fossils of my past, Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there At this or that box, pulling through the gap, In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy, The first book first. And how I felt it beat Under my pillow, in the morning's dark, An hour before the sun would let me read! My books! At last, because the time was ripe, I chanced upon the poets.— filed under Books
We get no good By being ungenerous, even to a book, And calculating profits-so much help By so much reading. It is rather when We gloriously forget ourselves, and plunge Soul-forward, headlong, into a book's profound, Impassioned for its beauty, and salt of truth- 'Tis then we get the right good from a book.— filed under Books
Candor is the seal of a noble mind, the ornament and pride of man, the sweetest charm of woman, the scorn of rascals, and the rarest virtue of sociability. γ. BENTZEL-STERNAÛ. As frank as rain On cherry blossoms.— filed under Candor
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young heads against their mothers, And that cannot stop their tears.— filed under Childhood
Children. Women know The way to rear up children (to be just); They know a simple, merry, tender knack Of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, And stringing pretty words that make no sense, And kissing full sense into empty words; Which things are corals to cut life upon, Although such trifles.— filed under Childhood
All are not taken! there are left behind Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring, And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices, to make soft the wind.— filed under Consolation
And her yes, once said to you, SHALL be Yes for evermore.— filed under Decision
The world goes whispering to its own, "This anguish pierces to the bone;" And tender friends go sighing round, "What love can ever cure this wound?" My days go on, my days go on. C.— filed under Despair
Life treads on life, and heart on heart; We press too close in church and mart To keep a dream or grave apart.— filed under Destiny
And that dismal cry rose slowly And sank slowly through the air, Full of spirit's melancholy And eternity's despair! And they heard the words it said- Pan is dead! great Pan is dead! Pan, Pan is dead!— filed under Bias
Workes. First Week. Sixth Day. Eyes of gentianellas azure, Staring, winking at the skies.— filed under Eyes
Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead. She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,- And both turned into flowers for the earth's garden-close; Her tears, to the wind-flower,-his blood, to the rose.— filed under Flirting
The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks, Held out in the smoke, like stars by day.— filed under Flirting
C. Hast thou the flower there? Amaranth. Amarantus. Nosegays! leave them for the waking, Throw them earthward where they grew Dim are such, beside the breaking Amaranths he looks unto. Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open ever do.— filed under Flirting
of the Heart. Asphodel. Asphodelus. With her ankles sunken in asphodel She wept for the roses of earth which fell.— filed under Flowers-Azalea
Flower. Buttercup. Ranunculus. He likes the poor things of the world the best, I would not, therefore, if I could be rich. It pleases him to stoop for buttercups.— filed under Flowers-Azalea
Cactus. Cactus. And cactuses, a queen might don, If weary of a golden crown And still appear as royal.— filed under Flowers-Azalea
Hail to the King of Bethlehem, Who weareth in his diadem The yellow crocus for the gem Of his authority! LONGFELLOw-Christus. Pt. II. The Golden Legend. IX. Daffodil. Narcissus Pseudo-Narcissus, Brazen helm of daffodillies, With a glitter toward the light. Purple violets for the mouth, Breathing perfumes west and south; And a sword of flashing lilies, Holden ready for the fight.— filed under Flowers-Cowslip
Daisy. Bellis. And a breastplate made of daisies, Closely fitting, leaf on leaf, Periwinkles interlaced Drawn for belt about the waist; While the brown bees, humming praises, Shot their arrows round the chief.— filed under Flowers-Dahlia
Garden. And open pastures, where you scarcely tell White daisies from white dew.— filed under Flowers-Dahlia
Gorse. Ulex. Mountain gorses, do ye teach us * * * * * * That the wisest word man reaches Is the humblest he can speak?— filed under Flowers-Gorse
Gorse. Mountain gorses, ever-golden. Cankered not the whole year long! Do ye teach us to be strong, Howsoever pricked and holden Like your thorny blooms and so Trodden on by rain and snow, Up the hillside of this life, as bleak as where ye grow?— filed under Flowers-Gorse
and Entertainment. That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow But thinking of a wreath, *** I like such ivy; bold to leap a height 'Twas strong to climb! as good to grow on graves As twist about a thyrsus; pretty too (And that's not ill) when twisted round a comb.— filed under Flowers-Ivy
And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.— filed under Flowers-Kingcup
And lilies white, prepared to touch The whitest thought, nor soil it much, Of dreamer turned to lover.— filed under Flowers-Kingcup
Letter. *** purple lilies Dante blew To a larger bubble with his prophet breath.— filed under Flowers-Kingcup
Very whitely still The lilies of our lives may reassure Their blossoms from their roots, accessible Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer; Growing straight out of man's reach, on the hill God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.— filed under Flowers-Kingcup
Glory. Myrtle. Myrtus Communis. Nor myrtle-which means chiefly love: and love Is something awful which one dare not touch So early o' mornings.— filed under Flowers-Marsh Marigold
Deep violets you liken to The kindest eyes that look on you, Without a thought disloyal.— filed under Flowers-Pansy
For summer has a close, And pansies bloom not in the snows.— filed under Flowers-Pansy
Pansies for ladies all-(I wis That none who wear such brooches miss A jewel in the mirror).— filed under Flowers-Pansy
Pink. Dianthus. You take a pink, You dig about its roots and water it, And so improve it to a garden-pink, But will not change it to a heliotrope.— filed under Flowers-Papaw
Hill. Reed. Phragmites. Those tall flowering-reeds which stand, In Arno like a sheaf of sceptres, left By some remote dynasty of dead gods.— filed under Flowers-Primrose
And thus, what can we do, Poor rose and poet too, Who both antedate our mission In an unprepared season?— filed under Flowers-Rose
Rose. A white rosebud for a guerdon.— filed under Flowers-Rose
Swan's Nest. "For if I wait," said she, "Till time for roses be,- For the moss-rose and the musk-rose, Maiden-blush and royal-dusk rose, - "What glory then for me In such a company?- Roses plenty, roses plenty And one nightingale for twenty?"— filed under Flowers-Rose
Rose. O rose, who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet, But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat,- Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee.— filed under Flowers-Rose
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples,— filed under Flowers-Rose
'Twas a yellow rose, By that south window of the little house, My cousin Romney gathered with his hand On all my birthdays, for me, save the last; And then I shook the tree too rough, too rough, For roses to stay after,— filed under Flowers-Rose
You smell a rose through a fence: If two should smell it, what matter?— filed under Flowers-Rose
Rose, Sweetbrier. (Eglantine), Rosa Rubiginosa. Yet here's eglantine, Here's ivy!-take them as I used to do Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine. Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true, And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.— filed under Flowers-Rose
Harem. Tulip. Tulipa. And tulips, children love to stretch Their fingers down, to feel in each Its beauty's secret nearer.— filed under Flowers-Thyme
You believe In God, for your part?-ay? that He who makes, Can make good things from ill things, best from worst, As men plant tulips upon dunghills when They wish them finest.— filed under Flowers-Thyme
Prophet of Khorassan. Verbena. Verbena. Sweet verbena, which, being brushed against Will hold you three hours after by the smell, In spite of long walks on the windy hills.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Deep violets, you liken to The kindest eyes that look on you, Without a thought disloyal.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Woodbine. Lonicera. And stroke with listless hand' The woodbine through the window, till at last I came to do it with a sort of love.— filed under Flowers-Woodbine
God keeps a niche In Heaven, to hold our idols; and albeit. He brake them to our faces, and denied That our close kisses should impair their white,- I know weshall behold them raised, complete, The dust swept from their beauty, glorified, New Memnons singing in the great God-light.— filed under Futurity
O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood, The holy name of Grief-holy herein, That, by the grief of One, came all our good. S.— filed under Grief
Exaggeration. Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not More grief than ye can weep for. That is well- That is light grieving!— filed under Grief
Capacity for joy Admits temptation.— filed under Joy
I Greet with Glad Surprise. First time he kiss'd me, he but only kiss'd The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since it grew more clean and white.— filed under Kisses
Portuguese. Sonnet XXXVIII. I was betrothed that day; I wore a troth kiss on my lips I could not give away.— filed under Kisses
Thy lips which spake wrong counsel, I kiss close.— filed under Kisses
Knowledge by suffering entereth, And Life is perfected by Death.— filed under Knowledge
I know is all the mourner saith, Knowledge by suffering entereth; And Life is perfected by Death.— filed under Life
Behold me! I am worthy Of thy loving, for I love thee!— filed under Love
But I love you, sir: And when a woman says she loves a man, The man must hear her, though he love her not.— filed under Love
I would not be a rose upon the wall A queen might stop at, near the palace-door, To say to a courtier, "Pluck that rose for me, It's prettier than the rest." O Romney Leigh! I'd rather far be trodden by his foot, Than lie in a great queen's bosom.— filed under Love
Who can fear Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll- Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year? Say thou dost love me, love me, love me-toll The silver iterance!-only minding, Dear, To love me also in silence, with thy soul.— filed under Love
Portuguese. Sonnet XXI. Whoever lives true life, will love true love.— filed under Love
"There is no God," the foolish saith, But none, "There is no sorrow," And nature oft the cry of faith In bitter need will borrow.— filed under Nature
Physicians. Mercantile. The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise, I barter curl for curl upon that mart.— filed under Occupations-Medicine
World's use is cold, world's love is vain, World's cruelty is bitter bane But pain is not the fruit of pain.— filed under Pain
Mussud's Praise of the Camel. And I must bear What is ordained with patience, being aware Necessity doth front the universe With an invincible gesture. น. E. B. BROWNING-Prometheus Bound. I worked with patience which means almost power.— filed under Patience
Better World. God's prophets of the Beautiful, These Poets were.— filed under Poets
O brave poets, keep back nothing; Nor mix falsehood with the whole! Look up Godward! speak the truth in Worthy song from earnest soul! Hold, in high poetic duty, Truest Truth the fairest Beauty.— filed under Poets
God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers, And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face, A gauntlet with a gift in 't.— filed under Prayer
Hope, he called, belief In God, work, worship *** therefore let us pray!— filed under Prayer
Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low, Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so Who art not missed by any that entreat.— filed under Xxv
Many a crown Covers bald foreheads.— filed under Royalty
There, Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o' the world. Oh, eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time.— filed under Shakespeare
How he sleepeth! having drunken Weary childhood's mandragore, From his pretty eyes have sunken Pleasures to make room for more- Sleeping near the withered nosegay which he pulled the day before.— filed under Sleep
Of all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this- "He giveth His beloved sleep."— filed under Sleep
Sleep on, Baby, on the floor, Tired of all the playing, Sleep with smile the sweeter for That you dropped away in! On your curls' full roundness stand Golden lights serenely- One cheek, pushed out by the hand, Folds the dimple inly.— filed under Sleep
Knowledge by suffering entereth, And Life is perfected by Death.— filed under Suffering
And friends, dear friends,-when it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep, Let One, most loving of you all, Say, "Not a tear must o'er her fall; He giveth His beloved sleep." C.— filed under Tears
Thank God for grace, Ye who weep only! If, as some have done, Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place And touch but tombs, -look up! Those tears will run Soon in long rivers down the lifted face, And leave the vision clear for stars and sun.— filed under Tears
The place is all awave with trees, Limes, myrtles, purple-beaded, Acacias having drunk the lees Of the night-dew, faint headed, And wan, grey olive-woods, which seem The fittest foliage for a dream.— filed under Treason
Castle- Part II.-Classified Arbora. Acacia. Acacia. A great acacia, with its slender trunk And overpoise of multitudinous leaves, (In which a hundred fields might spill their dew And intense verdure, yet find room enough) Stood reconciling all the place with green.— filed under Treason
Bk. VI. The lawn, Which, after sweeping broadly round the house, Went trickling through the shrubberies in a stream Of tender turf, and wore and lost itself Among the acacias, over which you saw The irregular line of elms by the deep lane Which stopped the grounds and dammed the overflow Of arbutus and laurel.— filed under Trees And Plants-Acacia
Pray, pray, thou who also weepest, - And the drops will slacken so; Weep, weep-and the watch thou keepest, With a quicker count will go. Think, the shadow on the dial For the nature most undone, Marks the passing of the trial, Proves the presence of the sun.— filed under Trials
Whoever lives true life will love true love.— filed under Truth
Every wish Is like a prayer-with God.— filed under Wishes
A worthless woman! mere cold clay As all false things are! but so fair, She takes the breath of men away Who gaze upon her unaware: I would not play her larcenous tricks To have her looks!— filed under Woman
You forget too much That every creature, female as the male, Stands single in responsible act and thought, As also in birth and death.— filed under Woman
When Adam dolve, and Eve span, Who was then the gentleman? Lines used by JOHN BALL in Wat Tyler's Rebellion. By the way, The works of women are symbolical. We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull our sight, Producing what? A pair of slippers, sir, To put on when you're weary-or a stool To tumble over and vex you *** curse that stool! Or else at best, a cushion where you lean And sleep, and dream of something we are not, But would be for your sake. Alas, alas! This hurts most, this * * * that, after all, we are paid The worth of our work, perhaps. C.— filed under Work
Free men freely work: Whoever fears God, fears to sit at ease.— filed under Work
Get leave to work In this world,-'tis the best you get at all.— filed under Work
Let no one till his death Be called unhappy. Measure not the work Until the day's out and the labour done.— filed under Work
Cowper's trans. In this bad, twisted, topsy-turvy world, Where all the heaviest wrongs get uppermost.— filed under Work