Misconceptions
This is a spray the Bird clung to, Making it blossom with pleasure, Ere the high tree-top she sprang to, Fit for her nest and her treasure. Oh, what a hope beyond measure Was the poor sprays, which the flying feet hung to, So to be singled out, built in, and sung to! This is a heart the Queen leant on, Thrilled in a minute erratic, Ere the true bosom she bent on, Meet for loves regal dalmatic. Oh, what a fancy ecstatic Was the poor hearts, ere the wanderer went on Love to be saved for it, proffered to, spent on!
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"This is a spray the Bird clung to,..."
Robert Browning's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "Misconceptions"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...