Maxioms by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
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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.
O brave poets, keep back nothing;
Nor mix falsehood with the whole!
Look up Godward! speak the read more
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.
What is art
But life upon the larger scale, the higher,
When, graduating up in a spiral read more
What is art
But life upon the larger scale, the higher,
When, graduating up in a spiral line
Of still expanding and ascending gyres,
It pushed toward the intense significance
Of all things, hungry for the Infinite?
Art's life--and where we live, we suffer and toil.
Who so loves believes the impossible.
Who so loves believes the impossible.
Red as a rose of Harpocrate.
Red as a rose of Harpocrate.
