Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning

Name: Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning
Author: Browning, Robert

Browning, Robert

Drama; English poetry; Poetry -- Collections

Well, such as he was, he must marry, we heard:
   And out of a convent, at the word,                                125
   Came the lady in time of spring.
   --Oh, old thoughts they cling, they cling!
   That day, I know, with a dozen oaths
   I clad myself in thick hunting-clothes
   Fit for the chase of urochs or buffle                             130
   In winter-time when you need to muffle.
   But the Duke had a mind we should cut a figure,
     And so we saw the lady arrive:
   My friend, I have seen a white crane bigger!
     She was the smallest lady alive,                                135
   Made in a piece of nature's madness,
   Too small, almost, for the life and gladness
     That overfilled her, as some hive
   Out of the bears' reach on the high trees
   Is crowded with its safe, merry bees:                             140
   In truth, she was not hard to please!
   Up she looked, down she looked, round at the mead,
   Straight at the castle, that's best indeed
   To look at from outside the walls;
   As for us, styled the "serfs and thralls,"                        145
   She as much thanked me as if she had said it,
     (With her eyes, do you understand?)
   Because I patted her horse while I led it;
     And Max, who rode on her other hand,
   Said, no bird flew past but she inquired                          150
   What its true name was, nor ever seemed tired--
   If that was an eagle she saw hover,
   And the green and gray bird on the field was the plover.
   When suddenly appeared the Duke:
     And as down she sprung, the small foot pointed                  155
   On to my hand--as with a rebuke,
     And as if his backbone were not jointed,
   The Duke stepped rather aside than forward,
     And welcomed her with his grandest smile;
     And, mind you, his mother all the while                         160
   Chilled in the rear, like a wind to Nor'ward;
   And up, like a weary yawn, with its pulleys
   Went, in a shriek, the rusty portcullis;
   And, like a glad sky the north-wind sullies,
   The lady's face stopped its play,                                 165
   As if her first hair had grown gray;
   For such things must begin some one day.


VII

   In a day or two she was well again;
   As who should say, "You labor in vain!
   This is all a jest against God, who meant                         170
   I should ever be, as I am, content
   And glad in His sight; therefore, glad I will be."
   So, smiling as at first, went she.


VIII

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert BrowningBrowning, Robert

General

Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning

Browning, Robert

Drama; English poetry; Poetry -- Collections

Well, such as he was, he must marry, we heard:
   And out of a convent, at the word,                                125
   Came the lady in time of spring.
   --Oh, old thoughts they cling, they cling!
   That day, I know, with a dozen oaths
   I clad myself in thick hunting-clothes
   Fit for the chase of urochs or buffle                             130
   In winter-time when you need to muffle.
   But the Duke had a mind we should cut a figure,
     And so we saw the lady arrive:
   My friend, I have seen a white crane bigger!
     She was the smallest lady alive,                                135
   Made in a piece of nature's madness,
   Too small, almost, for the life and gladness
     That overfilled her, as some hive
   Out of the bears' reach on the high trees
   Is crowded with its safe, merry bees:                             140
   In truth, she was not hard to please!
   Up she looked, down she looked, round at the mead,
   Straight at the castle, that's best indeed
   To look at from outside the walls;
   As for us, styled the "serfs and thralls,"                        145
   She as much thanked me as if she had said it,
     (With her eyes, do you understand?)
   Because I patted her horse while I led it;
     And Max, who rode on her other hand,
   Said, no bird flew past but she inquired                          150
   What its true name was, nor ever seemed tired--
   If that was an eagle she saw hover,
   And the green and gray bird on the field was the plover.
   When suddenly appeared the Duke:
     And as down she sprung, the small foot pointed                  155
   On to my hand--as with a rebuke,
     And as if his backbone were not jointed,
   The Duke stepped rather aside than forward,
     And welcomed her with his grandest smile;
     And, mind you, his mother all the while                         160
   Chilled in the rear, like a wind to Nor'ward;
   And up, like a weary yawn, with its pulleys
   Went, in a shriek, the rusty portcullis;
   And, like a glad sky the north-wind sullies,
   The lady's face stopped its play,                                 165
   As if her first hair had grown gray;
   For such things must begin some one day.


VII

   In a day or two she was well again;
   As who should say, "You labor in vain!
   This is all a jest against God, who meant                         170
   I should ever be, as I am, content
   And glad in His sight; therefore, glad I will be."
   So, smiling as at first, went she.


VIII

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning

Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning

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