Explore "Prologue to Asolando" by Robert Browning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"The Poet's age is sad: for why? / In youth, the natural world could show / No common object but his eye / At once involved with alien glow -- / His own soul's iris-bow.
"And now a flower is just a flower: / Man, bird, beast are but beast, bird, man -- / Simply themselves, uncinct by dower / Of dyes which, when life's day began, / Round each in glory ran."