Pomegranates from an English Garden: A selection from the poems of Robert BrowningBrowning, Robert
General
Pomegranates from an English Garden: A selection from the poems of Robert Browning
Browning, Robert
English poetry
The very God! think, Abib; dost thou think?
So, the All-Great were the All-Loving too—
So, through the thunder comes a human voice
Saying, “O heart I made, a heart beats here!
“Face, my hands fashioned, see it in myself!
“Thou hast no power nor may’st conceive of mine:
“But love I gave thee, with myself to love,
“And thou must love me who have died for thee!”
The madman saith He said so: it is strange.
This most interesting and beautiful poem will afford a good illustration
of one of the cases of difficulty referred to in the Introduction. The
reader is placed in the position of one who has just found this Arabian
epistle, and must decipher and interpret it without any extraneous aid.
First comes, according to Eastern custom, the name (line 1), then the
address (7), with the greeting (15), and mention of articles sent with
the letter—all in true Eastern style—with such adjuncts as give a
general idea of the school of physiology and medicine to which the
writer belongs.
The twenty-first letter had ended at Jericho, and here, accordingly, the
twenty-second begins. The date appears as we read on, marked by the
expedition of Vespasian and his son Titus against Jerusalem. When
Bethany is mentioned, our interest is awakened, and we wonder what is
coming; but to the writer Bethany has no such associations, as is
indicated by the light and jocular way in which he marks its distance
from Jerusalem, and carelessly proceeds to record the observations it is
his main business to make wherever he goes.
Further on, however, we discover that there is something of importance
weighing on his mind, which makes him hesitate and debate as to the
trustworthiness of the messenger he intends to employ; while, at the
same time, he is evidently ashamed to tell his master what is troubling
him. This accounts for his abruptly ending his letter (determining, for
the moment, to say nothing about it); then, unable to refrain, beginning
again, yet still trying to conceal the depth of his feeling, and to
apologize for what appears in spite of himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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