"My sun sets to rise again."
"Mid the sharp, short emerald wheat, scarce risen three fingers well, The wild tulip at the end of its tube, blows out its great red bell, Like a thin clear bubble of blood, for the children to pick and sell."
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Source: Robert Browning, John Woolford, Daniel Karlin (1991). “The Poems of Browning: 1847-1861”, p.145, Pearson Education
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