Ah! Mr. Browning: Excerpts from His Poems

Clever Mr. Browning

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris and he;
I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;

 

 Opening lines of How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix

Ay, because the sea's the street there; and 'tis arched
   by ... what you call
... shylocks bridge with houses on it, where they
   kept the carnival:

 

Lines from A Toccata of Galuppi's

Naughty Mr. Browning

I
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
II
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

 

Meeting at Night

Was a lady such a lady, cheeks so round and lips so

   red, - 

On her neck  the small face buoyant, like a bell-flower 

   on its bed,

O'er the breast's super abundance where a man

   might base his head?

 

Lines from A Toccata of Galuppi's

Sad Mr Browning

I
Room after room,
I hunt the house through
We inhabit together.
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her—
Next time, herself!—not the trouble behind her
Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume!
As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew:
Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather.

II
Yet the day wears,
And door succeeds door;
I try the fresh fortune—
Range the wide house from the wing to the centre.
Still the same chance! she goes out as I enter.
Spend my whole day in the quest,—who cares?
But 'tis twilight, you see,—with such suites to explore,
Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!

 

Love in a Life

 

Spiteful Mr. Browning

Take the cloak from his face, and at first

Let the corpse do its worst!

How he lies in his rights of a man!
Death has done all death can.
And, absorbed in the new life he leads,
He recks not, he heeds
Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike
On his senses alike,
And are lost in the solemn and strange
Surprise of the change.
Ha, what avails death to erase
His offence, my disgrace?
I would we were boys as of old
In the field, by the fold:
His outrage, God's patience, man's scorn
Were so easily borne!

I stand here now, he lies in his place:
Cover the face!

After

References:

Browning, Robert. Poetry Foundation. Web. 04 July 2012. <http://www.poetryfoundation.org/search/?q=Robert+Browning>. 

Browning, Robert; Selected Poems; London: Bloomsbury Poetry Classic, 1994. Print

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