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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fettered, yet remained

       “Content within a tether half the range

       “I could assign it? — able to exchange

       “My ignorance (I felt) for knowledge, and

       “Idle because I could thus understand —

       “Could e’en have penetrated to its core

       “Our mortal mystery, yet — fool — forbore,

       “Preferred elaborating in the dark

       “My casual stuff, by any wretched spark

       “Born of my predecessors, though one stroke

       “Of mine had brought the flame forth! Mantua’s yoke,

       “My minstrel’s-trade, was to behold mankind, —

       “My own concern was just to bring my mind

       “Behold, just extricate, for my acquist,

       “Each object suffered stifle in the mist

       “Which hazard, custom, blindness interpose

       “Betwixt things and myself.”

      Whereat he rose.

       The level wind carried above the firs

       Clouds, the irrevocable travellers,

       Onward.

      ”Pushed thus into a drowsy copse,

       “Arms twine about my neck, each eyelid drops

       “Under a humid finger; while there fleets,

       “Outside the screen, a pageant time repeats

       “Never again! To be deposed, immured

       “Clandestinely — still petted, still assured

       “To govern were fatiguing work — the Sight

       “Fleeting meanwhile! ‘T is noontide: wreak ere night

       “Somehow my will upon it, rather! Slake

       “This thirst somehow, the poorest impress take

       “That serves! A blasted bud displays you, torn,

       “Faint rudiments of the full flower unborn;

       “But who divines what glory coats o’erclasp

       “Of the bulb dormant in the mummy’s grasp

       “Taurello sent?” …

      ”Taurello? Palma sent

       “Your Trouvere,” (Naddo interposing leant

       Over the lost bard’s shoulder) — ”and, believe,

       “You cannot more reluctantly receive

       “Than I pronounce her message: we depart

       “Together. What avail a poet’s heart

       “Verona’s pomps and gauds? five blades of grass

       “Suffice him. News? Why, where your marish was,

       “On its mud-banks smoke rises after smoke

       “I’ the valley, like a spout of hell new-broke.

       “Oh, the world’s tidings! small your thanks, I guess,

       “For them. The father of our Patroness,

       “Has played Taurello an astounding trick,

       “Parts between Ecelin and Alberic

       “His wealth and goes into a convent: both

       “Wed Guelfs: the Count and Palma plighted troth

       “A week since at Verona: and they want

       “You doubtless to contrive the marriage-chant

       “Ere Richard storms Ferrara.” Then was told

       The tale from the beginning — how, made bold

       By Salinguerra’s absence, Guelfs had burned

       And pillaged till he unawares returned

       To take revenge: how Azzo and his friend

       Were doing their endeavour, how the end

       O’ the siege was nigh, and how the Count, released

       From further care, would with his marriage-feast

       Inaugurate a new and better rule,

       Absorbing thus Romano.

      ”Shall I school

       “My master,” added Naddo, “and suggest

       “How you may clothe in a poetic vest

       “These doings, at Verona? Your response

       “To Palma! Wherefore jest? ‘Depart at once?

       “A good resolve! In truth, I hardly hoped

       “So prompt an acquiescence. Have you groped

       “Out wisdom in the wilds here? — thoughts may be

       “Over-poetical for poetry.

       “Pearl-white, you poets liken Palma’s neck;

       “And yet what spoils an orient like some speck

       “Of genuine white, turning its own white grey?

       “You take me? Curse the cicala!”

      One more day,

       One eve — appears Verona! Many a group,

       (You mind) instructed of the osprey’s swoop

       On lynx and ounce, was gathering — Christendom

       Sure to receive, whate’er the end was, from

       The evening’s purpose cheer or detriment,

       Since Friedrich only waited some event

       Like this, of Ghibellins establishing

       Themselves within Ferrara, ere, as King

       Of Lombardy, he ‘d glad descend there, wage

       Old warfare with the Pontiff, disengage

       His barons from the burghers, and restore

       The rule of Charlemagne, broken of yore

       By Hildebrand.

      I’ the palace, each by each,

       Sordello sat and Palma: little speech

       At first in that dim closet, face with face

       (Despite the tumult in the market-place)

       Exchanging quick low laughters: now would rush

       Word upon word to meet a sudden flush,

       A look left off, a shifting lips’ surmise —

       But for the most part their two histories

       Ran best thro’ the locked fingers and linked arms.

       And so the night flew on with its alarms

       Till in burst one of Palma’s retinue;

       “Now, Lady!” gasped he. Then arose the two

       And leaned into Verona’s air, dead-still.

       A balcony lay black beneath until

       Out, ‘mid a gush of torchfire, grey-haired men

       Came on it and harangued the people: then

       Sea-like that people surging to and fro

       Shouted, “Hale forth the carroch — trumpets, ho,

       “A flourish! Run it in the ancient grooves!

       “Back from the bell! Hammer — that whom behoves

       “May hear the League is up! Peal — learn who list,

       “Verona means not first of towns break tryst

       “Tomorrow with the League!”

      Enough.


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