You'll Love Me Yet

You'll love me yet! and I can tarry
Your love's protracted growing:
June reared that bunch of flowers you carry
From seeds of April's sowing.

I plant a heartful now: some seed
At least is sure to strike,
And yield, what you'll not pluck indeed,
Not love, but, may be, like!

You'll look at least on love's remains,
A grave's one violet:
Your look? that pays a thousand pains.
What's death? You'll love me yet!

Robert Browning

Robert Browning was an English poet and playwright whose mastery of dramatic verse, especially dramatic monologues, made him one of the foremost Victorian poets. His work was initially harshly criticized, but he gained recognition later in life. He is best known for works such as "The Ring and the Book" and "Men and Women" which exhibit his deep understanding of human character and psychological insight.

Robert Browning

Apparent Failure

Robert Browning, Simple Poetry

Rosny

Robert Browning, Simple Poetry

The Confessional

Robert Browning, Simple Poetry

Development

Robert Browning, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Another Way Of Love

I.
June was not over
Though past the fall,
And the best of her roses
Had yet to blow,
When a man I know
(But shall not discover,
Since ears are dull,
And time discloses)
Turned him and said with a mans true air,
Half sighing a smile in a yawn, as twere,
If I tire of your June, will she greatly care?

II.
Well, dear, in-doors with you!
True, serene deadness
Tries a mans temper.
Whats in the blossom
June wears on her bosom?
Can it clear scores with you?
Sweetness and redness.
Eadem semper!
Go, let me care for it greatly or slightly!
If June mends her bowers now, your hand left unsightly
By plucking the roses, my June will do rightly.

III.
And after, for pastime,
If June be refulgent
With flo...

Robert Browning

One Way Of Love

I.
All June I bound the rose in sheaves.
Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves
And strew them where Pauline may pass.
She will not turn aside? Alas!
Let them lie. Suppose they die?
The chance was they might take her eye.

II.
How many a month I strove to suit
These stubborn fingers to the lute!
To-day I venture all I know.
She will not hear my music? So!
Break the string; fold musics wing:
Suppose Pauline had bade me sing!

III.
My whole life long I learned to love.
This hour my utmost art I prove
And speak my passion, Heaven or hell?
She will not give me heaven? Tis well!
Lose who may, I still can say,
Those who win heaven, blest are they!

Robert Browning

In A Year

I.
Never any more,
While I live,
Need I hope to see his face
As before.
Once his love grown chill,
Mine may strive
Bitterly we re-embrace,
Single still.

II.
Was it something said,
Something done,
Vexed him? was it touch of hand,
Turn of head?
Strange! that very way
Love begun:
I as little understand
Loves decay.

III.
When I sewed or drew,
I recall
How he looked as if I sung,
Sweetly too.
If I spoke a word,
First of all
Up his cheek the colour sprang,
Then he heard.

IV.
Sitting by my side,
At my feet,
So he breathed but air I breathed,
Satisfied!
I, too, at loves brim
Touched the sweet:
I would die if death bequeathed
Sweet to him.

V.

Robert Browning

Earths Immortalities

Fame

See, as the prettiest graves will do in time,
Our poets wants the freshness of its prime;
Spite of the sextons browsing horse, the sods
Have struggled thro its binding osier-rods;
Headstone and half-sunk footstone lean awry,
Wanting the brick-work promised by-and-by;
How the minute grey lichens, plate oer plate,
Have softened down the crisp-cut name and date!



Love

So, the years done with
(Love me for ever!)
All March begun with,
Aprils endeavour;
May-wreaths that bound me
June needs must sever;
Now snows fall round me,
Quenching Junes fever,
(Love me for ever!)

Robert Browning

May And Death

I.
I wish that when you died last May,
Charles, there had died along with you
Three parts of springs delightful things;
Ay, and, for me, the fourth part too.

II.
A foolish thought, and worse, perhaps!
There must be many a pair of friends
Who, arm in arm, deserve the warm
Moon-births and the long evening-ends.

III.
So, for their sake, be May still May!
Let their new time, as mine of old,
Do all it did for me: I bid
Sweet sights and sounds throng manifold.

IV.
Only, one little sight, one plant,
Woods have in May, that starts up green
Save a sole streak which, so to speak,
Is springs blood, spilt its leaves between,

V.
That, they might spare; a certain wood
Might miss the plant; their loss were small:
B...

Robert Browning

Life In A Love

Escape me?
Never
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you,
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth
While the one eludes, must the other pursue.
My life is a fault at last, I fear
It seems too much like a fate, indeed!
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed
But what if I fail of my purpose here?
It is but to keep the nerves at strain,
To dry ones eyes and laugh at a fall,
And, baffled, get up and begin again,
So the chace takes up ones life thats all.
While, look but once from your farthest bound
At me so deep in the dust and dark,
No sooner the old hope goes to ground
Than a new one, straight to the self-same mark,
I shape me
Ever
Removed!

Robert Browning