Browning, Robert, 1812-1889; Poets, English -- 19th century -- Biography
The latter years of the poet were full of varied interest for himself,
but present little of particular significance for specification in a
monograph so concise as this must perforce be. Every year he went
abroad, to France or to Italy, and once or twice on a yachting trip in
the Mediterranean.[25] At home--for many years, at 19 Warwick Crescent,
in what some one has called the dreary Mesopotamia of Paddington, and
for the last three or four years of his life at 29 De Vere Gardens,
Kensington Gore--his avocations were so manifold that it is difficult to
understand where he had leisure for his vocation. Everybody wished him
to come to dine; and he did his utmost to gratify Everybody. He saw
everything; read all the notable books; kept himself acquainted with the
leading contents of the journals and magazines; conducted a large
correspondence; read new French, German, and Italian books of mark; read
and translated Euripides and Æschylus; knew all the gossip of the
literary clubs, salons, and the studios; was a frequenter of
afternoon-tea parties; and then, over and above it, he was Browning: the
most profoundly subtle mind that has exercised itself in poetry since
Shakspere. His personal grace and charm of manner never failed. Whether
he was dedicating "Balaustion's Adventure" in terms of gracious
courtesy, or handing a flower from some jar of roses, or lilies, or his
favourite daffodils, with a bright smile or merry glance, to the lady of
his regard, or when sending a copy of a new book of poetry with an
accompanying letter expressed with rare felicity, or when generously
prophesying for a young poet the only true success if he will but listen
and act upon "the inner voice,"--he was in all these, and in all things,
the ideal gentleman. There is so charming and characteristic a touch in
the following note to a girl-friend, that I must find room for it:--
29 De Vere Gardens, W.,
_6th July_ 1889.
MY BELOVED ALMA,--I had the honour yesterday of dining with the
Shah, whereupon the following dialogue:--
"Vous êtes poëte?"
"On s'est permis de me le dire quelquefois."
"Et vous avez fait des livres?"
"Trop de livres."
"Voulez-vous m'en donner un, afin que je puisse me ressouvenir de
vous?"
"Avec plaisir."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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