Strike when thou wilt the hour of rest but let my last days be my best.

— Robert Browning

Take away love, and our earth is a tomb.

— Robert Browning

The gray sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low: And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand.

— Robert Browning

The power of the night, the press of the storm, the post of the foe; where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, yet, the strong man must go.

— Robert Browning

The rain set early in tonight, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its best to vex the lake:I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up and all the cottage warm;

— Robert Browning

There is an inmost center in us all, where truth abides in fullness;....and, to know, rather consists in opening out a way where the imprisoned splendor may escape, then in effecting entry for a light supposed to be without.

— Robert Browning

Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.

— Robert Browning

T'were too absurd to slight for the hereafter the day's delight!

— Robert Browning

What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew

— Robert Browning

What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew.

— Robert Browning