Εικόνες σελίδας
PDF
Ηλεκτρ. έκδοση
[ocr errors]

vall of December 3, 1883 (Wise, Letters of R. If you don't ask them 'tis another thing, Browning, ii., 31):

Until the judgment-day be sure they'll sing.

GEROUSIOS OINOS

"They are going to unveil and display here a monument erected to Goldoni, and the committee did me the honour to request a word or two for insertion in an Album to [This poem, which was put into type at which the principal men of letters in Italy the same time as the volume "Jocoseria" have contributed. I made a sonnet, which (1883), was not eventually published, but they please to think so well of that they pref- came to light in its present form as a rough ace the work with it." printed proof in what is known as “galleyMrs. Bronson (Cornhill Magazine, Febru- slip" among the poet's papers offered the ary, 1902, p. 10) adds that the sonnet was sale of the Browning Collections in M 1913, written very rapidly, and only two or three and purchased by the well-known biblic-hile, trifling alterations were made in the original Mr. Bertram Dobell. It was first blished in the Cornhill Magazine and the Century Magazine, April 1914.]

copy.

The sonnet was printed in the Pall Mall Gazette, December 8, 1883, and has since been reprinted in the Browning Society's Papers, 1884, Pt. V.., p. 99; in Nicoll and Wise's Literary Anecdotes of the Nineteenth Century, vol. i. (1895); in the Cambridge (Boston, U. S. A.) Edition (1895), p. 910; and in the Centenary Edition of the Poet's Works, vol. ix., p. 347.]

GOLDONI-good, gay, sunniest of souls---
Glassing half Venice in that verse of thine--|
What though it just reflect the shade and
shine

Of common life, nor render, as it rolls,
Grandeur and gloom? Sufficient for thy
shoals

Was Carnival: Parini's depths enshrine
Secrets unsuited to that opaline
Surface of things which laughs along thy

scrolls.

There throng the people: how they come and go,

Lisp the soft language, flaunt the bright garb-see

On Piazza, Calle, under Portico

And over Bridge! Dear king of Comedy,
Be honoured! Thou that didst love Venice so,
Venice, and we who love her, all love thee.

ON SINGERS

[First printed in the Pall Mall Gazette, December 13, 1883, and reprinted in the Browning Society's Papers, 1884, Pt. V., p. 99. Robert Browning was asked to write in a lady's album, where he saw some one had written the lines from Horace]:

OMNIBUS hoc vitium est cantoribus, inter
amicos

Ut nunquam inducant animum cantare rogati,
Injussi nunquam desistant.

DREAMED there was once held a feast:
That lords assembled, most and least,
And set them down to dine;
Till, eating ended-high of heart
Each guest, the butler did his part,
Poured out their proper wine.

Good tipple and of various growth
(You may believe without an oath)
Glorified every glass:

All drank in honour of the host,
Then-high of heart,-rose least and most,
And left the room-alas.

For in rushed straightway loon and lout,
Mere servingmen who skulked without:
"Our masters turn their backs,
And now's the time to taste and try
What meat lords munch,-and, by and by,
What wine they swill-best smacks."

So said, so done: first, hunger spends
Its rage on victual, odds and ends:

But seeing that rage appeased,
"Now for the lords' wine," all agree,
"Kept from the like of you and me!
Wet whistles, chins once greased!
"How! not content with oading crop,
These lords have scarcely left trop

In every glass deep-drained
The niggards mean our feast to prove
A horse-regale! But, one remove

From wine is water stained.

"Fill up each glass with water! Get
Such flavour as may stick fast yet,
Fancy shall do the rest!
Besides we boast our private flasks,
Good stiff mundungus, home-brewed casks
Beating their bottled best!

He immediately appended the following "So here's your health to watered port!

translation:

[merged small][ocr errors]

Thanks: mine is sherry of a sort.

Claret, though thinnish, clear.
My Burgundy's the genuine stuff-
Bettered and bittered just enough
By mixing it with beer."

30

[blocks in formation]

Nineteenth Century, vol. i. (1895); in the
Cambridge (Boston, U. S. A.) Edition (1895),
P. 947; and in the Centenary Edition of the
Poet's Works (1912), vol. ix., p. 350.]

SHAKESPEARE!-to such name's sounding
what succeeds

Fitly as silence? Falter forth the spell,-Act follows word, the speaker knows full well,

Nor tampers with its magic more than need. Two names there are: That which the Hebrew reads

[ocr errors]

With his soul only: if from lips it fell,
Echo, back thundered by earth, heaven
and hell,

impedes

might,

[In 1884 Browning contributed these lines to the Album presented to Mr. Arthur Chappell, e organiser of the Popular Concerts at St. James's Hall, thus testifying to his love of music and to his frequent attendance at concerts. The poem was printed in The Would own "Thou did'st create us!" Nought World for April 16, 1884, and has been reprinted in the Browning Society's Papers, We voice the other name, man's most of 1884, Pt. VII., p. 18; in Nicoll and Wise's Literary Anecdotes of the Nineteenth Century, vol. i. (1895); in the Cambridge (Bosto.., U. S. A.) Edition (1895), p. 947, and in the Centenary Edition of the Poet's Works (1912), vol. ix., p. 349. It has hitherto contained fifteen lines, but the following version, reduced to the sonnet form of fourteen lines: (by the deletion of line nine and the conse- [Browning never took an active part in quent revision of line ten), is printed from a politics, and this statement of his political cutting taken from the World and corrected faith, composed in response to an invitation by Browning, which was found among his from Mr. Andrew Reid, and published by papers.]

"ENTER my palace," if a prince should say"Feast with the Painters! See, in boun

teous row,

Awesomely, lovingly: let awe and icve Mutely await their working, leave to sight All of the issue as-below-aboveShakespeare's creation rises: one remove, Though dread-this finite from that infinite. WHY I AM A LIBERAL

him in a volume with the same title issued in 1885 in support of the then waning Liberal cause, appeared only a few months before he ceased to support the official Liberal party. The principles expressed in it, however, had no reference to the temporary policies of any party, and remained his principles to the end of his life.

They range from Titian up to Angelo!" 10 Could we be silent at the rich survey? A host so kindly, in as great a way Invites to banquet, substitutes for show The lines were reprinted in the Browning Sound that's diviner still, and bids us know Society's Papers, 1885, p. 89; in Sonnets of Bach like Beethoven; are we thankless, pray? the Century, edited by W. Sharp (1886); To him whose every guest not idly vaunts, in Nicoll and Wise's Literary Anecdotes of "Sense has received the utmost Nature the Nineteenth Century, vol. i. (1895); in the My up was filled with rapture to the brim. Cambridge (Boston, U. S. A.) Edition (1895), p. 948; and in the Centenary Edition of the When, night by night-ah, memory, how Poet's Works (1912), vol. ix., p. 351.] it haunts!-"WHY?" Because all I haply can and do, All that I am now, all I hope to beWhence comes it save from fortune setting free

grants,

Music was poured by perfect ministrants, 20 By Hallè, Schumann, Piatti, Joachim."

April 5, 1884.

THE NAMES

(To Shakespear€)

Body and soul the purpose to pursue,
God traced for both? If fetters, not a few,
Of prejudice, convention, fall from me,
These shall I bid men-each in his degree

[Written for the Shakesperean Show-Book Also God-guided-bear, and gaily too? published in May 1884, in connection with But little do or can the best of us:

the Shakesperean Show held at the Albert

That little is achieved through Liberty.

Hall in aid of the Hospital for Women in the Who, then, dares hold-emancipated thusHis fellow shall continue bound? Not I Fulham Road. It was reprinted in the Pall

Mall Gazette for May 29; in the Browning Who live, love, labour freely, nor discuss A brother's right to freedom. That is "Why."

Society's Papers, 1884, Pt. V., p. 105; in
Nicoll and Wise's Literary Anecdotes of the

36

40

LINES FOR THE TOMB OF LEVI LIN-
COLN THAXTER

Two hundred and eighty years ago
Befell the siege of Ostend;

Epps soldiered it there: and, hew or hack At his breast as the enemy might, his back [Mr. Thaxter, who was born at Waterford Got never a scratch: yet life must end in Massachusetts in 1824 and died in 1884, Somehow,-Epps ended-so! was an enthusiastic student of Browning's poems, and in his later years gave readings He had lost an eye on the walls, look out from the poet's works. These lines have been printed in Mrs. Orr's Life, 1908, p. 335. and in the Cambridge (Boston, U. S. A.) Edition (1895), p. 948.]

THOU, whom these eyes saw never,-Say
friends true

Who say my soul, helped onward by my song,
Though all unwittingly, has helped thee too?
I gave but of the little that I knew:
How were the gift requited, while along

No longer could Epps: said h
"Give me Saint George's cross--our fiag
To carry: I can't see them-foes brag:

At all events they shall soon see me,
Knight and knave, lord and lout!"

"Epps got loose again!" yelped the curs:
"At him-the blind side best!
Together as one-in rush, on a heap,
Buffet the old maimed bull! Fame's cheap
This morn for whoso has mind to wrest

Life's path I pace, couldst thou make weak-Yon flag from his hold, win spurs!"

ness strong,

Help me with knowledge-for Life's Old-As a big wave bursts on a rock, broke they Death's New!

R. B. to. L. L. T., April 19, 1885.

EPPS

As far as can now be recollected, it was about the year 1884 that Robert Browning

On bannerman Epps: as staunch
The drowned rock stands, but emerging feels
Weeds late on its head lie loose at his beels,
So left bare, swirl-stript, root and branch,
band
Of his

gay:

company stood-Epps laughed

announced to Mrs. Edmund Gosse and "I with my flag-that's well, no fear
Lady Alma-Tadema, whose maiden name The colours stick to the staff:
was Epps, that he was proposing to write
a poem about their "Kentish ancestor.'
They were not aware of any relationship
with the hero, but Browning laughingly in-
sisted that they must not throw any doubt
upon the fact, because he proposed to en- "Stick, flag, to a new staff—here!”
dow them with this "ancestor." Shortly
afterwards he showed them the MS, of the

But the staff 'tis a mere hand holds-lets fall

If there stab me or shoot one knave of them all:

To hinder which game-" I hear Epps laugh

round

verses, which he did not treat as a serious And off in a trice from the staff that's wood, specimen of his poetic art. It is not recol- And on to a staff that's flesh, lected what became of the MS., of which Tears Epps and ties the ladies kept no copy; it was doubtless returned to Mr. Browning.

January 12, 1914.

EDMUND GOSSE.

binds

about his breast

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

{tight

The flag in a red swathe: "Here's the ves
For my lifelong wear; at the fon afresh.
Flagstaff, show your hardihood:

[The MS. was included in the sale of the Whereat, in a twinkling, man and horse Browning Collections in 1913. The poem Went down-one, two and three,

was first printed in the Cornhill Magazine And how many more? But they shot and and the New York Outlook, October 1913. slashed As a result of that publication, Mr. Edmund Gosse has very kindly given the above in- Two teresting facts in connection with this characteristic historical poem.]

ASKS anyone "Where's a tag for steps?"
I answer-"Waiting its time

10 Till somebody versed in the English tongue
Shall start at the challenge, cry 'unsung

Till now, and all for want of a rhyme, Is the prowess of Kentish Epps?'"

[blocks in formation]

2

30

[ocr errors]

As he falters "See! Flag to the staff sticks Its blank of nature. If a traveller came fast,

And, flag saved, staff may die!"

And die did Epps, with his English round:
Not so the fame of the feat:

For Donne and Dekker, brave poets and rare,
Gave it honour and praise: and I join the pair
With heart that's loud though my voice
compete

As a pipe with their trumpet-sound!
January 6, 1886.

THE ISLE'S ENCHANTRESS

[Lines, on Felix Moscheles' painting called "The Isle's Enchantress," given by Robert Browning to the painter and printed in the Pall Mall Gazette by the poet's permission. March 26, 1889.]

WIND wafted from the sunset, o'er the swell 10 Of summer's slumbrous sea, herself asleep

Come shoreward, in her iridescent shell
Cradled, the isle's enchantress. You who keep
A drowsy watch beside her,--watch her well!

Seeing my bare bald skull and my still brows
And massive features coloured to a stone
The tragic mask of a humanity

Whose part is played to an end,--he might
mistake me

For some god Terminus set on these flats
Or broken marble Faunus. Let it be.
Life has ebbed from me--I am on dry ground-
All sounds of life I held so thunderous sweet
Shade off to silence-all the perfect shapes
Born of perception and men's images (im-
agery?)

Which thronged against the outer rim of earth
And hung with floating faces over it
Grow dim and dimmer-all the motions
drawn

From Beauty in action which spun audibly
My brain round in a rapture, have grown still.
There's a gap 'twixt me and the life once mine,
Now others' and not mine, which now roars off
In gradual declination-till at last

20

30

I hear it in the distance droning small
Like a bee at sunset. Ay, and that bee's hum
The buzzing fly and mounting of the grass
Cropped slowly near me by some straying 40
sheep

from me

UNFINISHED DRAFT OF A POEM Are strange to me with life-and separate WHICH MAY BE ENTITLED "ÆSCHYLUS' SOLILOQUY"

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

The outside of my being-I myself
Grow to silence, fasten to the calm
Of inorganic nature . . .
sky and rocks-
I shall pass on into their unity
When dying down into impersonai dusk.
Ah, ha-these flats are wide!
The prophecy which said the house would fall
And thereby crush me, must bring down the
sky

The only roof above me where I sit
Or ere it prove its oracle to-day.
Stand fast ye pillars of the constant Heavens
As Life doth in me--I who did not die
That day in Athens when the people's scorn
Hissed toward the sun as if to darken it
Because my thoughts burned too much for
the eyes

This description is correct in that the poem had never been published, but it is evident that it was not a draft for "Aristophanes' Apology," but a soliloquy of the aged Eschylus, just before the prophecy as to his death Over my head, because I spoke my Greek was fulfilled by an eagle dropping a tortoise Too deep down in my soul to suit their case. upon his head. The poem was first printed Who did not die to see the solemn vests in the Cornhill Magazine and the New York Of my white chorus round the thymele Independent, November 1913, strictly accord- Flutter like doves, and sweep back like a cloud ing to the original MS., now in the British Before the shrill lipped people . . . but Museum, as it reads with the poet's variants] stood calm

and queries. In line 56 Dephos" is ob- And cold, and felt the theatre wax hot viously a slip of the pen for "Delphos," With mouthing whispers . . . the man and in line 59 "rush" seems the best inter- Eschylus

pretation of a scarcely legible word, of which Is gray I fancy--and his wrinkles ridge

the MS. contains many.]

I AM an old and solitary man

And now at set of sun in Sicily

I sit down in the middle of this plain

The smoothest of his phrases--or the times Have grown too polished for this old rough work

We have no Sphynxes in the Parthenon

Nor any flints at Dephos-or forsooth,

50

60

Which drives between the mountains and the I think the Sphynxes wrote this Attic Greek- 70

sea

Our Sophocles hath something more than this

Cast out on-and their smilenot die (?)

-I would Thro' the heart of the sun-some black as night in Hell

At this time by the crushing of a house

Who lived that Day out . . . I would go to death

With voluntary and majestic steps

All mixed, sharp, driven against me! and as I gazed

(For I gazed still) I saw the sea and earth Leap up as wounded by the innumerous shafts

Jove thundering on the right hand. Let it be. And hurry round, and whirl into a blot

I am an old and solitary man

Mine eyes feel dimly out the setting sun
Which drops its great red fruit of bitterness
To-day as other days, as every day
to Within the patient waters. What do I say?
I whistle out my scorn against the sun
Who (knell) his trilogy morn, noon and night
And set this tragic world against the sun-
Forgive me, great Apollo.-Bitter fruit
I think we never found that holy sun
Or ere with conjurations of our hands

Drove up the saltness of our hearts to it

A blessed fruit, a full Hesperian fruit

Across which evermore fell thick the shafts
As norland snow falls thick before the wind be

[blocks in formation]

Which the fair sisters with their starry eyes And then it was revealed, it was revealed

to Did warm to scarlet bloom. O holy sun,

That I should be a priest of the Unseen

straight

My eyes are weak and cannot hold thee And build a bridge of sound across the round! But in my large soul there is room for thee-From Heaven to earth whence all the Gods All human wrongs and shames cast out from it,

And I invite thee, sun, to sphere thyself
In my large soul, and let my thoughts in white
Keep chorus round thy glory-Oh the days
In which I sate upon Hymettus hill
Ilissus seeming louder: and the groves
Of blessed olive thinking of their use

30 A little tunicked child and felt my thoughts (?)
Rise past the golden bees against thy face
Great sun upon the sea. The city lay
Beneath me like an eaglet in an egg.

might walk

Nor bend it with their soles (?)

And then I saw the Gods tread past me slow
From out the portals of the hungry dark
And each one as he past, breathed in my face
And made me greater-First old Saturn came
Blind with eternal watches-calm and blind-
Then Zeus-his eagle blinking on his wrist
To his hand's rod of fires-in thunder rolls
He glode on grandly-While the troop of
Prayers

The beak and claws shut whitely up in calm--Buzzed dimly in the histow of his light
And calm were the great waters-and the hills With murmurous sounds, and poor beseech-
Holding at arm's length their unmolten snows ing tears.
Plunged in the light of heaven which trickled
back

On all sides, a libation to the world.

There I sate a child

40 Half hidden in purple thyme with knees drawn up

By clasping of my little arms, and cheek

Laid slant across them with obtruded nose
And full eyes gazing . . . ay, my eyes climbed

up

And Neptune with beard and locks drawn
straight

As seaweed-ay and Pluto with his Dark
Cutting the dark as Lightning cuts the sun
Made individual by intensity.

And then Apollo trenching on the dusk
With a white glory, while the lute he bore
Struck on the air.

JOAN OF ARC AND THE KINGFISHER

Against the heated metal of thy shield
This and the following ten fragments of
Till their persistent look clove through the fire
verse are from MSS. in the autograph of
And struck it into manyfolded fires (?)
Robert Browning which were included in
And opened out the secret of the night
the sale of the Browning Collections in 1913.
Hid in the day-source Darkness mixed with They are now printed for the first time, and

light.

Then shot innumerous arrows in my eyes 50 From all sides of the Heavens- so blinding

me

As countless as the norland snowflakes fall
Before the north winds- rapid, wonderful,

they may be said to reveal the poet in historical, social, and humorous moods. The

following lines were written as a motto for a picture painted by his son.]

Now, as she fain would bathe, one eventide, Some shafts as bright as sun rays none times-God's Maid, this Joan-from a pool's edge

70

[blocks in formation]
« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »