Selections From The Poems And Plays Of Robert Browning Part 24

PROSPICE

Fear death?--to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, 5 The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go; For the journey is done and the summit attained, And the barriers fall, 10 Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained, The reward of it all.

I was ever a fighter, so--one fight more, The best and the last!

I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forbore, 15 And bade me creep past.

No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness, and cold. 20 For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, 25 Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with G.o.d be the rest!

A FACE

If one could have that little head of hers Painted upon a background of pale gold, Such as the Tuscan's early art prefers!

No shade encroaching on the matchless mold Of those two lips, which should be opening soft 5 In the pure profile; not as when she laughs, For that spoils all; but rather as if aloft Yon hyacinth, she loves so, leaned its staff's Burthen of honey-colored buds to kiss And capture 'twixt the lips apart for this. 10 Then her lithe neck, three fingers might surround, How it should waver on the pale gold ground Up to the fruit-shaped, perfect chin it lifts!

I know, Correggio loves to ma.s.s, in rifts Of heaven, his angel faces, orb on orb 15 Breaking its outline, burning shades absorb; But these are only ma.s.sed there, I should think, Waiting to see some wonder momently Grow out, stand full, fade slow against the sky (That's the pale ground you'd see this sweet face by), 20 All heaven, meanwhile, condensed into one eye Which fears to lose the wonder, should it wink.

O LYRIC LOVE

O lyric Love, half angel and half bird, And all a wonder and a wild desire-- Boldest of hearts that ever braved the sun, Took sanctuary within the holier blue, And sang a kindred soul out to his face-- 5 Yet human at the red-ripe of the heart-- When the first summons from the darkling earth Reached thee amid thy chambers, blanched their blue, And bared them of the glory--to drop down, To toil for man, to suffer or to die-- 10 This is the same voice; can thy soul know change?

Hail then, and hearken from the realms of help!

Never may I commence my song, my due To G.o.d who best taught song by gift of thee, Except with bent head and beseeching hand-- 15 That still, despite the distance and the dark, What was, again may be; some interchange Of grace, some splendor once thy very thought, Some benediction anciently thy smile: --Never conclude, but raising hand and head. 20 Thither where eyes, that cannot reach, yet yearn For all hope, all sustainment, all reward, Their utmost up and on--so blessing back In those thy realms of help, that heaven thy home, Some whiteness which, I judge, thy face makes proud, 25 Some wanness where, I think, thy foot may fall!

PROLOGUE TO PACCHIAROTTO

Oh, the old wall here! How I could pa.s.s Life in a long midsummer day, My feet confined to a plot of gra.s.s, My eyes from a wall not once away!

And lush and lithe do the creepers clothe 5 Yon wall I watch, with a wealth of green: Its bald red bricks draped, nothing loth, In lappets of tangle they laugh between.

Now, what is it makes pulsate the robe?

Why tremble the sprays? What life o'erbrims 10 The body--the house, no eye can probe-- Divined as, beneath a robe, the limbs?

And there again! But my heart may guess Who tripped behind; and she sang perhaps; So, the old wall throbbed, and its life's excess 15 Died out and away in the leafy wraps!

Wall upon wall are between us; life And song should away from heart to heart!

I--prison-bird, with a ruddy strife At breast, and a lip whence storm-notes start-- 20

Hold on, hope hard in the subtle thing That's spirit: though cloistered fast, soar free; Account as wood, brick, stone, this ring Of the rueful neighbors, and--forth to thee!

HOUSE

Shall I sonnet-sing you about myself? 25 Do I live in a house you would like to see?

Is it scant of gear, has it store of pelf?

"Unlock my heart with a sonnet-key"?

Invite the world, as my betters have done?

"Take notice: this building remains on view, 30 Its suites of reception every one, Its private apartment and bedroom too;

"For a ticket, apply to the Publisher."

No: thanking the public, I must decline.

A peep through my window, if folk prefer; 35 But, please you, no foot over threshold of mine!

I have mixed with a crowd and heard free talk In a foreign land where an earthquake chanced And a house stood gaping, naught to balk Man's eye wherever he gazed or glanced. 40

The whole of the frontage shaven sheer, The inside gaped; exposed to day, Right and wrong and common and queer, Bare, as the palm of your hand, it lay.

The owner? Oh, he had been crushed, no doubt! 45 "Odd tables and chairs for a man of wealth!

What a parcel of musty old books about!

He smoked--no wonder he lost his health!

"I doubt if he bathed before he dressed.

A brasier?--the pagan, he burned perfumes! 50 You see it is proved, what the neighbors guessed: His wife and himself had separate rooms."

Friends, the goodman of the house at least Kept house to himself till an earthquake came; 'Tis the fall of its frontage permits you feast 55 On the inside arrangement you praise or blame.

Outside should suffice for evidence; And whoso desires to penetrate Deeper, must dive by the spirit-sense-- No optics like yours, at any rate! 60

"Hoity-toity! A street to explore, Your house the exception! '_With this same key Shakespeare unlocked his heart_,' once more!"

Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare he!

SHOP

So, friend, your shop was all your house! 65 Its front, astonis.h.i.+ng the street, Invited view from man and mouse To what diversity of treat Behind its gla.s.s--the single sheet!

What gimcracks, genuine j.a.panese: 70 Gape-jaw and goggle-eye, the frog; Dragons, owls, monkeys, beetles, geese; Some crush-nosed human-hearted dog: Queer names, too, such a catalogue!

I thought, "And he who owns the wealth 75 Which blocks the window's vast.i.tude, --Ah, could I peep at him by stealth Behind his ware, pa.s.s shop, intrude On house itself, what scenes were viewed!

"If wide and showy thus the shop, 80 What must the habitation prove?

The true house with no name a-top-- The mansion, distant one remove, Once get him off his traffic-groove!

"Pictures he likes, or books perhaps; 85 And as for buying most and best, Commend me to these City chaps!

Or else he's social, takes his rest On Sundays, with a lord for guest.