The Complete Poems of Robert Browning - 22 Poetry Collections in One Edition. Robert Browning
Johannes Agricola in Meditation II. — Madhouse Cell
Through the Metidja to Abd-El-Kadr
Cavalier Tunes I. Marching Along.
I.
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,
Marched them along, fifty score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
II.
God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
To the Devil that prompts ’em their treasonous 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.
III.
Hampden to hell, and his obsequies’ knell.
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here
(Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?
IV.
Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,
(Chorus) March we along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!
Cavalier Tunes II. Give a Rouse.
I.
KING CHARLES, and who’ll do him right now?
King Charles, and who’s ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here’s, in hell’s despite now,
King Charles!
II.
Who gave me the goods that went since?
Who raised me the house that sank once?
Who helped me to gold I spent since?
Who found me in wine you drank once?
(Chorus.) King Charles, and who’ll do him right now?
King Charles, and who’s ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here’s, in hell’s despite now,
King Charles!
III.
To whom used my boy George quaff else,
By the old fool’s side that begot him?
For whom did he cheer and laugh else,
While Noll’s damned troopers shot him?
(Chorus.) King Charles, and who’ll do him right now?
King Charles, and who’s ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here’s, in hell’s despite now,
King Charles!
Cavalier Tunes III. Boot and Saddle.
I.
BOOT, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery grey,
(Chorus). — Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
II.
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you’d say;
Many’s the friend there, will listen and pray
“God’s luck to gallants that strike up the lay,
(Chorus). — ”Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”
III.
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads’ array:
Who laughs, “Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
(Chorus). — ”Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”
IV.
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, “Nay!
“I’ve better counsellors; what counsel they?
(Chorus). — ”Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!”
My Last Duchess
FERRARA
THAT’S my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf’s hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will’t please you sit and look at her? I said
“Frà Pandolf” by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, ’twas not
Her husband’s presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess’ cheek: perhaps
Frà Pandolf chanced to say “Her mantle laps
“Over my lady’s wrist too much,” or “Paint
“Must never hope to reproduce the faint
“Half-flush that dies along her throat;” such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart … how shall I say? … too soon made glad,