The Complete Poems of Robert Browning - 22 Poetry Collections in One Edition. Robert Browning

The Complete Poems of Robert Browning - 22 Poetry Collections in One Edition - Robert  Browning


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As the dry limpet for the lymph

       Come with a tune he knows so well.

       And how your statues’ hearts must swell!

       And how your pictures must descend

       To see each other, friend with friend!

       Oh, could you take them by surprise,

       You’d find Schidone’s eager Duke

       Doing the quaintest courtesies

       To that prim saint by Haste-thee-Luke!

       And, deeper into her rock den,

       Bold Castelfranco’s Magdalen

       You’d find retreated from the ken

       Of that robed counsel-keeping Ser —

       As if the Tizian thinks of her,

       And is not, rather, gravely bent

       On seeing for himself what toys

       Are these, his progeny invent,

       What litter now the board employs

       Whereon he signed a document

       That got him murdered! Each enjoys

       Its night so well, you cannot break

       The sport up, so, indeed must make

       More stay with me, for others’ sake.

       She speaks.

      I.

      Tomorrow, if a harp-string, say,

       Is used to tie the jasmine back

       That overfloods my room with sweets,

       Contrive your Zorzi somehow meets

       My Zanze! If the ribbon’s black,

       The Three are watching: keep away!

      II.

      Your gondola — let Zorzi wreathe

       A mesh of waterweeds about

       Its prow, as if he unaware

       Had struck some quay or bridge-foot stair!

       That I may throw a paper out

       As you and he go underneath.

       There’s Zanze’s vigilant taper; safe are we!

       Only one minute more tonight with me?

       Resume your past self of a month ago!

       Be you the bashful gallant, I will be

       The lady with the colder breast than snow.

       Now bow you, as becomes, nor touch my hand

       More than I touch yours when I step to land,

       And say, All thanks, Siora! —

       Heart to heart

       And lips to lips! Yet once more, ere we part,

       Clasp me and make me thine, as mine thou art!

       He is surprised, and stabbed.

       It was ordained to be so, sweet! — and best

       Comes now, beneath thine eyes, upon thy breast.

       Still kiss me! Care not for the cowards! Care

       Only to put aside thy beauteous hair

       My blood will hurt! The Three, I do not scorn

       To death, because they never lived: but I

       Have lived indeed, and so — (yet one more kiss) — can die!

      Artemis Prologuizes

       Table of Contents

      I AM a Goddess of the ambrosial courts,

       And save by Here, Queen of Pride, surpassed

       By none whose temples whiten this the world.

       Thro’ Heaven I roll my lucid moon along;

       I shed in Hell o’er my pale people peace;

       On Earth, I, caring for the creatures, guard

       Each pregnant yellow wolf and fox-bitch sleek.

       And every feathered mother’s callow brood,

       And all that love green haunts and loneliness.

       Of men, the chaste adore me, hanging crowns

       Of poppies red to blackness, bell and stem,

       Upon my image at Athenai here;

       And this dead Youth, Asclepios bends above,

       Was dearest to me. He my buskined step

       To follow thro’ the wildwood leafy ways,

       And chase the panting stag, or swift with darts

       Stop the swift ounce, or lay the leopard low,

       Neglected homage to another God:

       Whence Aphrodite, by no midnight smoke

       Of tapers lulled, in jealousy dispatched

       A noisome lust that, as the gadbee stings,

       Possessed his stepdame Phaidra for himself

       The son of Theseus her great absent spouse.

       Hippolutos exclaiming in his rage

       Against the miserable Queen, she judged

       Life insupportable, and, pricked at heart

       An Amazonian stranger’s race should dare

       To scorn her, perished by the murderous cord:

       Yet, ere she perished, blasted in a scroll

       The fame of him her swerving made not swerve,

       Which Theseus read, returning, and believed,

       So, exiled in the blindness of his wrath,

       The man without a crime, who, last as first,

       Loyal, divulged not to his sire the truth.

       Now Theseus from Poseidon had obtained

       That of his wishes should be granted Three,

       And this he imprecated straight — alive

       May ne’er Hippolutos reach other lands!

       Poseidon heard, ai ai! And scarce the prince

       Had stepped into the fixed boots of the car,

       That gave the feet a stay against the strength

       Of the Henetian horses, and around

       His body flung the reins, and urged their speed

       Along the rocks and shingles of the shore,

       When from the gaping wave a monster flung

       His obscene body in the coursers’ path!

       These, mad with terror as the sea-bull sprawled

       Wallowing about their feet, lost care of him

       That reared them; and the master-chariot-pole

       Snapping beneath their plunges like a reed,

       Hippolutos, whose feet were trammeled fast,

       Was yet dragged forward by the circling rein

       Which either hand directed; nor was quenched

       The frenzy of that flight before each trace,

       Wheel-spoke and splinter of the woeful car,

       Each boulder-stone, sharp stub, and spiny shell,

       Huge fish-bone wrecked and wreathed amid the sands

       On that detested beach, was bright with blood

       And morsels of his flesh: then fell the steeds

       Head-foremost, crashing in their


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