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Robert Browning

Misconceptions

        THIS is a spray the Bird clung to,
            Making it blossom with pleasure,
        Ere the high tree-top she sprung to,
            Fit for her nest and her treasure.
            O, what a hope beyond measure
Was the poor spray's, which the flying feet hung to,—
So to be singled out, built in, and sung to!

        This is a heart the Queen leant on,
            Thrill'd in a minute erratic,
        Ere the true bosom she bent on,
            Meet for love's regal dalmatic.
            O, what a fancy ecstatic
Was the poor heart's, ere the wanderer went on—
Love to be saved for it, proffer'd to, spent on!

 
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About the poet
Robert Browning
 
By the same poet
The Pied Piper of Hamelin
Home Thoughts, from Abroad
Home Thoughts, from the Sea
How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix
Song from 'Paracelsus'
The Wanderers
Thus the Mayne glideth
Pippa's Song
You'll love Me yet
Porphyria's Lover
Song
Earl Mertoun's Song
In a Gondola
Meeting at Night
Parting at Morning
The Lost Mistress
The Last Ride together
 
Related books
Robert Browning at amazon.com


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