Robert Browning

Where the apple reddens Never pry - Lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I.

Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.

I count life just a stuff To try the soul's strength on.

Life is an empty dream.

Pippa's Song The year's at the spring, The day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hillside's dew-pearl'd; The lark's on the wing; The snail's on the thorn; God's in His heaven- All's right with the world!

How good is man's life, the mere living! how fit to employ All the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!

For life, with all it yields of joy and woe, And hope and fear (believe the aged friend), Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love,- How love might be, hath been indeed, and is.

When the liquor's out, why clink the cannikin?

It 's a long lane that knows no turnings.

Look not thou down but up!