Puslapio vaizdai

R. B.

12 DECEMBER, 1889 Now dumb is he who waked the world to speak, And voiceless hangs the world beside his bier; Our words are sobs, our cry of praise a tear; We are the smitten mortals, we the weak. We see a spirit on earth's loftiest peak Shine and wing hence the way he makes more clear ; See a great tree of life, that never here Dropped leaf for aught that rage of storms might wreak. Such ending is not death, such living shows What wide illumination brightness sheds From one big heart to conquer man's old foes, The coward and the tyrant and the force Of all these weedy monsters' rising heads, When song is talk from springs of turbid source.


Hobert Browning


Over the sea our galleys went,
With cleaving prows in order brave,
To a speeding wind and a bounding wave

A gallant armament:
Each bark built out of a forest-tree,

Left leafy and rough as first it grew,
And nail'd all over the gaping sides,
Within and without, with black-bull hides,
Seeth'd in fat and suppled in flame,
To bear the playful billow's game ;
So each good ship was rude to see,
Rude and bare to the outward view,

But each upbore a stately tent; Where cedar-pales in scented row Kept out the flakes of the dancing brine : And an awning droop'd the mast below, In fold on fold of the purple fine, That neither noontide, nor star-shine, Nor moonlight cold which maketh mad,

Might pierce the regal tenement. When the sun dawn'd, oh, gay and glad We set the sail and plied the oar ; But when the night-wind blew like breath, For joy of one day's voyage more, We sang together on the wide sea, Like men at peace on a peaceful shore ; Each sail was loos’d to the wind so free, Each helm made sure by the twilight star, And in a sleep as calm as death, We, the strangers from afar,

Lay stretch'd along, each weary crew In a circle round its wondrous tent, Whence gleam'd soft light and curld rich


And, with light and perfume, music too: So the stars wheel'd round, and the darkness

past, And at morn we started beside the mast, And still each ship was sailing fast !

We shouted, every man of us,
And steer'd right into the harbor thus,


pæan glorious. An hundred shapes of lucid stone !

All day we built a shrine for each A shrine of rock for every one — Nor paus'd we till in the westering sun

We sate together on the beach To sing, because our task was done ; When lo ! what shouts and merry songs ! What laughter all the distance stirs ! What raft comes loaded with its throngs Of gentle islanders ? “The isles are just at hand,” they cried ;

“ Like cloudlets faint at even sleeping, Our temple-gates are open'd wide,

Our olive-groves thick shade are keep

ing For the lucid shapes you bring” – they

cried. Oh, then we awoke with sudden start From our deep dream ; we knew, too late, How bare the rock, how desolate, To which we had fung our precious freight : Yet we call'd out

« Depart ! Our gifts, once given, must here abide :

Our work is done ; we have no heart To mar our work, though vain ” — we cried.



One morn, the land appear’d ! - a speck
Dim trembling betwixt sea and sky
Avoid it, cried our pilot, check

The shout, restrain the longing eye !
But the heaving sea was black behind
For many a night and many a day,
And land, though but a rock, drew nigh ;
So we broke the cedar pales away,
Let the purple awning flap in the wind,

And a statue bright was on every deck !

MARCHING ALONG KENTISH Sir Byng stood for his King, Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing : And, pressing a troop unable to stoop And see the rogues flourish and honest folk

droop, Marching along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song. God for King Charles ! Pym and such carles To the Devil that prompts 'em their trea

sonous parles ! Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup, Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup Till you ’re

(Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.



Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell

III Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry

as well! England, good cheer! Rupert is near ! Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here, Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! (Chorus)

Rescue my castle before the hot day Marching along, fifty-score strong, Brightens to blue from its silvery gray, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?


Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Then, God for King Charles ! Pym and his snarls

Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent

say ; carles !

Many's the friend there, will listen and Hold by the right, you double your might ;

pray So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the “God's luck to gallants that strike up the fight,


(Chorus) March we along, fifty-score strong, Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!

Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay, II

Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads'

array: Who laughs, “Good fellows ere this, by

my fay, KING CHARLES, and who'll do him right

(Chorus) now ?

Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now ?

Who? My wife Gertrude ; that, honest Give a rouse : here's, in hell's despite now,

Laughs when you talk of surrendering, King Charles !

“ Nay !

I've better counsellors ; what counsel they ? Who gave me the goods that went since ?

(Chorus) Who rais'd me the house that sank once ? Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!'" Who help'd me to gold I spent since ? Who found me in wine you drank once ? (Chorus)

MY LAST DUCHESS King Charles, and who 'll do him right

now? King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?

That's my last Duchess painted on the Give a rouse : here's, in hell's despite now,

wall, King Charles !

Looking as if she were alive. I call

That piece a wonder, now : Frà Pandolf's To whom us’d my boy George quaff else,

hands By the old fool's side that begot him ? Work'd busily a day, and there she stands. For whom did he cheer and laugh else, Will’t please you sit and look at her? I While Noll's damn'd troopers shot him ?

said (Chorus)

“ Frà Pandolf” by design : for never read King Charles, and who'll do him right Strangers like you that pictur'd countenow?

nance, King Charles, and who's ripe for fight The depth and passion of its earnest glance, now?

But to myself they turn'd (since none puts Give a rouse : here's, in hell's despite now,

by King Charles !

The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)

and gay,



ay gray,


s you'd

ten and

up the

av, dheads'

Chis, by

And seem'd as they would ask me, if they Much the same smile? This grew; I gave durst,

commands; How such a glance came there ; so, not the Then all smiles stopp'd together. There first

she stands
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 't was As if alive. Will 't please you rise ? We'll

Her husband's presence only, callid that The company below, then. I repeat,

The Count your master's known munifi-
Of joy into the Duchess' cheek : perhaps
Frå Pandolf chanced to say “Her mantle Is ample warrant that no just pretence

Of mine for dowry will be disallow'd ;
Over my lady's wrist too much," or Though his fair daughter's self, as I avow'd
“ Paint

At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go
Must never hope to reproduce the faint diTogether down, sir. Notice Neptune,
Half-flush that dies along her throat : ” such though,

Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze

for me?
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart - how shall I say ? — too soon
made glad,

Too easily impress'd ; she lik'd whate'er

She look'd on, and her looks went every-

You know, we French storm'd Ratisbon :
Sir,'t was all one! My favor at her breast, A mile or so away
The dropping of the daylight in the West, On a little mound, Napoleon
The bough of cherries some officious fool Stood on our storming-day ;
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,
She rode with round the terrace all and Legs wide, arms lock'd behind,

As if to balance the prone brow
Would draw from her alike the approving Oppressive with its mind.

Or blush, at least.
She thank'd men,

Just as perhaps he mus'd “My plans
good ! but thank'd

That soar, to earth may fall,
Somehow -I know not how

as if she

Let once my army leader Lannes

Waver at yonder wall,”.
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name Out 'twixt the battery smokes there flew
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame A rider, bound on bound
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill Full-galloping ; nor bridle drew
In speech — (which I have not) — to make Until he reach'd the mound.
Quite clear to such an one,


Then off there flung in smiling joy,

And held himself erect
Or that in you disgusts me ;


By just his horse's mane, a boy :
Or there exceed the mark” – and if she You hardly could suspect

(So tight he kept his lips compress'd,
Herself be lesson'd so, nor plainly set

Scarce any blood came through)
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made ex You look'd twice ere you saw his breast

Was all but shot in two.
- E'en then would be some stooping ; and
I choose

“Well,” cried he, “Emperor, by God's Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smil’d, no

grace doubt,

We've got you

Ratisbon !
Whene'er I pass'd her ; but who pass'd

The Marshal's in the market-place,


'll be there anon




on the

your will


you miss,

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She sings
The moth's kiss, first !
Kiss me as if you made believe
You were not sure, this eve,

my face, your flower, had purs'd
Its petals up ; so, here and there
You brush it, till I grow aware
Who wants me, and wide ope I burst.

She speaks
Say after me, and try to say
My very words, as if each word
Came from you of your own accord,
In your own voice, in your own way :
“ This woman's heart and soul and brain
Are mine as much as this gold chain
She bids me wear ;

which (say again)
“I choose to make by cherishing
A precious thing, or choose to fling
Over the boat-side, ring by ring."
And yet once more say

no word more ! Since words are only words. Give o'er !

The bee's kiss, now !
Kiss me as if you enter'd

My heart at some noonday,
A bud that dares not disallow
The claim, so, all is render'd up,
And passively its shatter'd cup
Over your head to sleep I bow.

Unless you call me, all the same,
Familiarly by my pet name,
Which if the Three should hear you call,
And me reply to, would proclaim
At once our secret to them all.
Ask of me, too, command me, blame
Do, break down the partition-wall
'Twixt us, the daylight world beholds
Curtain'd in dusk and splendid folds !

He sings What are we two ? I am a Jew, And carry thee, farther than friends can

pursue, To a feast of our tribe; Where they need thee to bribe The devil that blasts them unless he imbibe Thy ... Scatter the vision for ever! And

now, As of old, I am I, thou art thou !

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