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Maxioms by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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  24  /  23  

And thus, what can we do,
Poor rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
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And thus, what can we do,
Poor rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
In an unprepared season?

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Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are read more

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.

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The man, most man, works best for men: and, if most man indeed, he gets his manhood plainest from his read more

The man, most man, works best for men: and, if most man indeed, he gets his manhood plainest from his soul.

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"There is no God," the foolish saith, But none, "There is no sorrow." And nature oft the cry of read more

"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: Eyes which the preacher could not school, By wayside graves are raised; And lips say, "God be pitiful," Who ne'er said, "God be praised.".

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And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me,
And gone read more

And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me,
And gone 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."

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