Complete Poetic and Dramatic Works of Robert Browning
Literary CollectionsLiterary CriticismPoetry

Complete Poetic and Dramatic Works of Robert Browning

by Robert Browning

Publisher
Classic Books
Pages
1033
Language
English
Published
2001

Overview

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1895 Excerpt: ...To Rome, as if the road burned underneath! Reach Rome, then hold my head in pledge, pay The run and the risk to heart's content I' Just that, I said,--then, in another tick of time. Sprang, was beside her, she and I alone. So it began, our flight through dusk to clear, Through day and night and day again to night Once more, and to last dreadful dawn of all. Sirs, how should I lie quiet in my grave Unless you suffer me wring, drop by drop. My brain dry, make a riddance of the drench Of minutes with a memory in each. Recorded motion, breath or look of hers. Which poured forth would present you one pure glass. Mirror you plain--as God's sea, glassed in gold, His saints--the perfect soul Pompilia? Men, You must kuow that a man gets drunk with truth Stagnant inside him! Oh, they 've killed her, Sirs! Can I be calm? Calmly! Each incident Proves, I maintain, that action of the flight For the true thing it was. The first faint scratch 0' the stone will test its nature, teach its worth To idiots who name Parian--coprolite. After all, I shall give no glare--at best Only display you certain scattered lights Lamping the rush and roll of the abyss: Nothing but here and there a fire-point pricks Wavelet from wavelet: well! For the first hour We both were silent in the night, I know: Sometimes I did not see nor understand. Blackness engulfed me,--partial stupor, say--Then I would break way, breathe through the surprise. And be aware again, and see who sat In the dark vest with the white face and hands. I said to myself--"I have caught it, I conceive The mind o' the mystery: 't is the way they wake And wait, two martyrs somewhere in a tomb Each by each as their blessing was to die; Some signal they are promised and expect,--When to arise before the trumpet scares: So,...

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