Robert Browning's Poetical Works: Dramatic romances. Christmas-eve and Easter-day

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Smith, Elder, & Company, 1888
 

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Página 4 - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two. "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace We've got you Ratisbon!
Página 108 - You should have heard the Hamelin people Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple. " Go," cried the Mayor, " and get long poles, Poke out the nests and block up the holes ! Consult with carpenters and builders, And leave in our town not even a trace Of the rats! " — when suddenly, up the face Of the Piper perked in the market-place, W>th a, " First, if you please, my thousand guilders !
Página 109 - Beside," quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink, "Our business was done at the river's brink; We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, And...
Página 155 - ... censer. Leave we the unlettered plain its herd and crop; Seek we sepulture On a tall mountain, citied to the top, Crowded with culture! All the peaks soar, but one the rest excels; Clouds overcome it; No! yonder sparkle is the citadel's Circling its summit.
Página 8 - That's my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. I call That piece a wonder, now: Fra' Pandolf s hands Worked busily a day, and there she stands. Will't please you sit and look at her? I said "Fra
Página 3 - My plans That soar, to earth may fall, Let once my army-leader Lannes Waver at yonder wall...
Página 102 - They fought the dogs, and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats. And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats, By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats. At last the people in a body To the Town Hall came flocking:
Página 195 - As when a sick man very near to death Seems dead indeed, and feels begin and end The tears and takes the farewell of each friend, And hears one bid the other go, draw breath Freelier outside, ("since all is o'er," he saith, "And the blow fallen no grieving can amend;") II.
Página 173 - Thou art the Judge. We are bruised thus. But, the Judgment over, join sides with us! Thine too is the cause ! and not more thine Than ours, is the work of these dogs and swine, Whose life laughs through and spits at their creed ! Who maintain Thee in word, and defy Thee in deed!
Página 7 - I go in the rain, and, more than needs, A rope cuts both my wrists behind ; And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds, For they fling, whoever has a mind, Stones at me for my year's misdeeds. Thus I entered, and thus I go ! In triumphs, people have dropped down dead. " Paid by the world, what dost thou owe Me ?" — God might question ; now instead, "Tis God shall repay : I am safer so.

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