w a \ \r\ Glass Book Copyright N°_ - u COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. ROBERT BROWNING >erv*/ar; From Day to Day With the Brownings COMPILED BY WALLACE AND FRANCES RICE NEW YORK BARSE & HOPKINS PUBLISHERS Copyright, 1911, BY BARSE & HOPKINS it ©CI.A2924 >5 ' FROM DAY TO DAY WITH THE BROWNINGS JANUARY January First What are we set on earth for? Say, to toil; Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines For all the heat o' the day, till it declines, And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil. God did anoint thee with His odorous oil, To wrestle, not to reign ; and He assigns All thy tears over, like pale crystallines, For younger fellow-workers of the soil To wear for amulets. So others shall Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand, From thy hand and thy heart and thy brave cheer, And God's grace fructify through thee to all. The least flower with a brimming cup may stand, And share its dewdrop with another near. Work. January Second Oh, make us happy and you make us good. The Ring and the Book. [7] FROM DAY TO DAY vjojvv^c y{* v^v vj* vjv viv>?^7^ w y$< y$\ yp: y$< y$* t^W^ January Third Lovers grow cold, men learn to hate their wives, And only parents' love can last our lives. Pippa Passes. January Fourth I thought how once Theocritus had sung Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years, Who each one in a gracious hand appears To bear a gift for mortals, old or young: And, as I mused it in his antique tongue, I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, Those of my own life, who by turns had flung A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware, So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair ; And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, — "Guess now who holds thee?"— "Death," I said. But, there, The silver answer rang, — "Not Death, but Love." — Sonnets from the Portuguese. January Fifth Love is so different with us men. In a Year. [8] WITH THE BROWNINGS January Sixth We mortals cross the ocean of this world Each in his average cabin of a life — The best's not big, the worst yields elbow-room. Now for our six months' voyage — how prepare? Bishop Blougram's Apology. January Seventh Progress is The Law of life — man is not Man as yet. Nor shall I deem his object served, his end Attained, his genuine strength put fairly forth, While only here and there a star dispels The darkness, here and there a towering mind O'erlooks its prostrate fellows : when the host Is out at once to the despair of night, When all mankind alike is perfected, Equal in full-blown powers — then, not till then, I say, begins man's general infancy. Paracelsus. January Eighth I find earth not gray but rosy, Heaven not grim but fair of hue. At the "Mermaid." [9] FROM DAY TO DAY January Ninth When a man's busy, why, leisure Strikes him as wonderful pleasure; 'Faith, and at leisure once is he? Straightway he wants to be busy. The Glove. January Tenth Love, if you knew the light That your soul casts in my sight, How I look to you For the pure and true, And the beauteous and the right. A Lover's Quarrel. January Eleventh Men are not angels, neither are they brutes: Something we may see, all we cannot see. Bishop Blougram's Apology, January Twelfth The common problem, yours, mine, every one's, Is not to fancy what were fair in life Provided it could be — but, finding first What may be, then find how to make it fair Up to our means — a very different thing! Bishop Blougram's Apology. [10] WITH THE BROWNINGS yp. >i«t v^c v*v v|< v^c viv y^^K'M^i y^y^y^y^y^y^y^'y^ January Thirteenth What does Man see or feel or apprehend Here, there, and everywhere, but faults to mend, Omissions to supply, — one wide disease Of things that are, which man at once would ease, Had will but power and knowledge? Francis Furini. January Fourteenth Duty be mine to tread in that high sphere Where love from duty ne'er disparts, I trust, And two halves make that whole, whereof — since here One must suffice a man — why, this one must! Bifurcation. January Fifteenth There are flashes struck from midnights, There are fire-flames noondays kindle, Whereby piled-up honors perish, Whereby swoln ambitions dwindle, While just this or that poor impulse, Which for once had play unstifled, Seems the whole work of a lifetime, That away the rest have trifled. Christina. [ii] FROM DAY TO DAY January Sixteenth In every man's career are certain points Whereon he dare not be indifferent; The world detects him clearly, if he is, As baffled at the game, and losing life. Bishop Blou gram's Apology. January Seventeenth You have seen better days, dear? So have I — And worse too, for they brought no such bud- mouth As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well, Wise men, 'tis said, have sometimes wished the same, And wished and had their trouble for their pains. Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau. January Eighteenth If we had but faith — wherein we fail — Whate'cr Ave yearn for would be granted us; Howbeit we let our whims prescribe despair, Our very fancies thwart and cramp our will, And so accepting life abjure ourselves! In a Balcony. [12] WITH THE BROWNINGS January Nineteenth Loving! what claim to love has work of mine? Concede my life were emptied of its gains To furnish forth and fill work's strict confine, Who works so for the world's sake — he com- plains With cause when hate, not love, rewards his pains. I looked beyond the world for truth and beauty: Sought, found, and did my duty. Ferishtah's Fancies. January Twentieth I have but to be by thee, and thy hand Will never let mine go, nor heart withstand The beating of my heart to reach its place. When shall I look for thee and find thee gone? When cry for the old comfort and find none? Never, I know ! Thy soul is in thy face. Any Wife to Any Husband. January Twenty-first The aim, if reached or not, makes great the life ; Try to be Shakespeare, leave the rest to fate ! Bishop Blou gram's Apology. [13] FROM DAY TO DAY W w v?k vt*. i^k vfK W v^y^y^n^ni^y^y^ y^. vf< T^TF January Twenty-second I worked with patience which means almost power : I did some excellent things indifferently, Some bad things excellently. Both were praised, The latter loudest. — Aurora Leigh. January Twenty-third All actual heroes are essential men, And all men possible heroes. — Aurora Leigh. January Twenty-fourth All that I know Of a certain star Is, it can throw (Like the angled spar) Now a dart of red, Now a dart of blue; Till my friends have said They would fain see, too, My star that dartles the red and the blue! Then it stops like a bird ; like a flower, hangs furled : They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it. What matter to me if their star is a world? Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it. — My Star. [14] WITH THE BROWNINGS January Twenty-fifth That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it: This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it. That low man goes on adding one to one, His hundred's soon hit: This high man, aiming at a million, Misses an unit. A Grammarian's Funeral. January Twenty-sixth What so wild as words are? A Woman's Last Word. January Twenty-seventh Who hears music, feels his solitude Peopled at once. Balaustiori's Adventure. January Twenty-eighth As well affirm that your eye is no longer in your body, because its earliest favorite, what- ever it may have first loved to look on, is dead and done with — as that any affection is lost to the soul when its first object, whatever happened first to satisfy it, is superseded in due course. Pippa Passes. [15] FROM DAY TO DAY Tpr^ :^ vjv vj* yp vj* y^y^ vi* vjv v^v v?vv?v>^ >^- t^tt^t January Twenty-ninth What's the earth With all its art, verse, music, worth — ■ Compared with love, found, gained, and kept? Dis aliter Visum. January Thirtieth Wish no word unspoken, want no look away ! What if words were but mistake, and looks — too sudden, say! Be unjust for once, Love! Bear it, well I may ! Do me justice always? bid my heart — their shrine — Render back its store of gifts, old looks and words of thine — Oh, so all unjust — the less deserved, the more divine ? Ferishtah's Fancies. January Thirty-first Religion's all or nothing ; it's no mere simile O' contentment, sigh of aspiration, sir — No quality o' the finelier-tempered clay Like its whiteness or its lightness ; rather stuff O' the very stuff, life of life, and self of self. Mr. Sludge the Medium. [16] WITH THE BROWNINGS y^y^y^y^y^y^y^y^y^y^ v*v y|V v^y >?* v^- yp 7$k7F FEBRUARY February First God be with thee, my beloved, — God be with thee! Else alone thou goest forth, Thy face unto the north, Moor and pleasance all around thee and be- neath thee Looking equal in one snow ; While I, who try to reach thee, Vainly follow, vainly follow With the farewell and the hollo, And cannot reach thee so. Alas, I can but teach thee! God be with thee, my beloved, — God be with thee! — A Valediction. February Second Eyes shall meet eyes and find no eyes between, Lips feed on lips, no other lips to fear! No past, no future — so thine arms but screen The present from surprise! not there, 'tis here — ■ Not then, 'tis now: — back, memories that in- trude ! Make, Love, the universe our solitude, And, over all the rest, oblivion roll — Sense quenching Soul! — Ferishtah's Fancies. [17] FROM DAY TO DAY February Third If you will only promise to treat me en bon camarade, without reference to the convention- alities of "ladies and gentlemen," taking no thought for your sentences (nor for mine), nor for your blots (nor for mine), nor for your blunt speaking (nor for mine), nor for your badd speling (nor for mine), and if you agree to send me blotted thought whenever you are in the mind for it, and with as little ceremony and less legibility than you would think it neces- sary to employ towards your printer — why, then, I am ready to sign and seal the contract, and to rejoice in being articled as your corre- spondent. Only don't let us have any constraint, any ceremony.— E. B. to R. B„ Feb. 3, 1845. February Fourth We shall start up, at last awake From Life, that insane dream we take For waking now, because it seems. Easter Day. February Fifth Books are men of higher stature, And the only men who speak aloud for future times to hear. Lady Geraldine's Courtship. [18] WITH THE BROWNINGS y^. V?V >?* V?< jQk/$k X$k yjVT^ WJ$i. >?* V^C >J* Vf* w J$k 7^7^" February Sixth I felt a mother-want about the world, And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb Left out at night, in shutting up the fold, — As restless as a nest-deserted bird Grown chill through something being away, though what It knows not. — Aurora Leigh. February Seventh And thus I know this earth is not my sphere, For I cannot so narrow me, but that I still exceed it. — Pauline. February Eighth Youth is a pleasant burden to me; But age on my head, more heavily Than the crags of Etna, weighs and weighs, And darkening cloaks the lids and intercepts the rays. Never be mine the preference Of an Asian empire's wealth, nor yet Of a house all gold, to youth, to youth That's beauty, whatever the gods dispense! Whether in wealth we joy, or fret Paupers, — of all God's gifts most beautiful, in truth. — Herakles. [19] FROM DAY TO DAY >l*>^y^?^>4x y$Ky$K y^y^y^ y^. y^y^r^y^y^y^y^: February Ninth In man there's failure, only since he left The lower and unconscious forms of life. We called it an advance. — Cleon. February Tenth A woman's always younger than a man At equal years. — Aurora Leigh. February Eleventh If nobody likes writing to everybody, yet everybody likes writing to somebody. E. B. to R. B., Feb. 3, 1845. February Twelfth All that is, at all, Lasts ever, past recall: Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure. — Rabbi Ben Ezra. February Thirteenth Truth that peeps Over the glass's edge when dinner's done, And body gets its sop, and holds its noise, And leaves the soul free a little. Bishop Blougram's Apology. [20] WITH THE BROWNINGS February Fourteenth Man I am and man would be, Love — merest man and nothing more. Bid me seem no other ! Eagles boast of pinions — let them soar! I may put forth angel's plumage, once un- manned, but not before. Now on earth, to stand suffices, — nay, if kneel- ing serves, to kneel: Here you front me, here I find the all of Heaven earth can feel: Sense looks straight, — not over, under, — per- fect sees beyond appeal. Good you are and wise, full circle : what to me were more outside? Wiser wisdom, better goodness? Ah, such want the angePs wide Sense to take and hold and keep them! Mine at least has never tried. Ferishtah's Fancies. February Fifteenth Though a wide compass round be fetched ; That what began best, can't end worst, Nor what God blessed once, prove accurst. Apparent Failure. [21] FROM DAY TO BAY >^: vp. vj* y|y v^v v^v yjv V4v?^7?sr?p"?^"??r>^>j< v?< ti^t^t February Sixteenth What youth deemed crystal, age finds out was dew. — Jochanan Hakkadosh. February Seventeenth The curious thing in this world is not the stupidity, but the upper-handism of the stu- pidity. The geese are in the Capitol, and the Romans in the farmyard — and it seems all quite natural that it should be so, both to geese and Romans, E. B. to R. B., Feb. 17, 1845. February Eighteenth Ask not one least word of praise! Words declare your eyes are bright? What then meant that summer day's Silence spent in one long gaze? Was my silence wrong or right? Words of praise were all to seek! Face of you and form of you, Did they find the praise so weak When my lips just touched your cheek — Touch which let my soul come through? Ferislitdtis Fancies. [22] WITH THE BROWNINGS February Nineteenth You, for example, clever to a fault, The rough and ready man, who write apace, Read somewhat seldomer, think perhaps even less. — Bishop Blougram's Apology. February Twentieth Say after me, and try to say My very words, as if each word Came from you of your own accord, In your own voice, in your own way: "This woman's heart and soul and brain Are mine as much as this gold chain She bids me wear; which" (say again) "I choose to make by cherishing A precious thing, or choose to fling Over the boat-side, ring by ring." And yet once more say . . . no word more! Since words are only words. Give o'er! In a Gondola. February Twenty-first Such man, she knew, being mere man ('twas all she knew), Must be made sure by beauty's silken bond, The weakness that subdues the strong, and bows Wisdom alike and folly. The Ring and the Bool:. [23] FROM DAY TO DAY February Twenty-second For even prosaic men, who wear grief long, Will get to wear it as a hat aside With a feather stuck in 't. Aurora Leigh. February Twenty-third You groped your way across my room i' the drear dark dead of night; At each fresh step a stumble was : but, once your lamp alight, Easy and plain you walked again: so soon all wrong grew right ! What lay on floor to trip your foot? Each object, late awry, Looked fitly placed, nor proved offence to foot- ing free — for why? The lamp showed all, discordant late, grown simple symmetry. Be love your light and trust your guide, with these explore my heart ! No obstacle to trip you then, strike hands and souls apart ! Since rooms and hearts are furnished so, — light shows you, — needs love's start? Fcrishtah's Fancies. [24] WITH THE BROWNINGS y^y^: y$< >$sr y?\ y^ y$K y^: y^ yp; >^ >^r >^ y$K y^ 7?^ 7$* 7?r February Twenty-fourth God will estimate success some day. Prince Hohenstiel-Schzvangau. February Twenty-fifth And so you found that poor room dull, Dark, hardly to your taste, my dear? Its features seemed unbeautif ul : But this I know — 'twas there, not here, You plighted troth to me, the word Which — ask that poor room how it heard. And this rich room obtains your praise Unqualified, — so bright, so fair, So all whereat perfection stays? Aye, but remember — here, not there, The other word was spoken ! — Ask This rich room how you dropped the mask ! Appearances. February Twenty-sixth Heaven will make strong The hand as the true heart. — Strafford. February Twenty-seventh When is a man strong, until he feels alone? Colombe's Birthday. [25] FROM DAY TO DAY *Ik v$k >j< y^y^y^y^r^Ky^: >j»t >?v >^ y^ y^: y^. y^. ^-?K February Twenty-eighth Thou comest! all is said without a word. I sit beneath thy looks, as children do In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through Their happy eyelids from an unaverred Yet prodigal inward joy. Sonnets from the Portuguese. February Twenty-ninth Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not More grief than ye can weep for. That is well- That is light grieving! lighter, none befell Since Adam forfeited the primal lot. Tears ! what are tears ? The babe weeps in its cot, The mother singing; at her marriage-bell The bride weeps, and before the oracle Of high-faned hills the poet has forgot Such moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for grace, Ye who weep only ! If, as some have done, Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place And touch but tombs, — look up! those tears will run Soon in long rivers down the lifted face, And leave the vision clear for stars and sun. Tears, [26] WITH THE BROWNINGS >^ vjvv^v yjv v*v vjv y*v vjv 7^ >i< >?< v^ v|v yi^y^n^y^y^ MARCH March First Oh, what a dawn of day ! How the March sun feels like May! All is blue again After last night's rain, And the South dries the hawthorn-spray, Only, my Love's away ! I'd as lief that the blue were gray. Runnels, which rillets swell, Must be dancing down the dell, With a foaming head On the beryl bed Paven smooth as hermit's cell ; Each with a tale to tell, Could my Love but attend as well. Dearest, three months ago! When we lived blocked up with snow, — When the wind would edge In and in his wedge, In, as far as the point could go — Not to our ingle, though, Where we loved each the other so! A Lover's Quarrel. [27] FROM DAY TO DAY March Second The great mind knows the power of gentleness, Only tries force because persuasion fails. Prince Hohcnsticl-Schwangau. March Third Last night I saw you in my sleep : And how your charm of face was changed! I asked, "Some love, some faith you keep?" You answered, "Faith gone, love estranged." Whereat I woke — a twofold bliss: Waking was one, but next there came This other: "Though I felt, for this, My heart break, I loved on the same." Bad Dreams, I. March Fourth Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear, Each sufferer says his say, his scheme of the weal and woe : But God has a few of us whom He whispers in the ear ; The rest, may reason and welcome: 'tis we musicians know. — Abt Vogler. [28] WITH THE BROWNINGS March Fifth We have hearts within, Warm, live, improvident, indecent hearts. Aurora Leigh. March Sixth Be sure they sleep not whom God needs ! Nor fear Their holding light His charge, when every hour That finds that charge delayed, is a new death. Paracelsus. March Seventh What does the world, told truth, but lie the more? The Ring and the Book, March Eighth Mere largeness in a life is something, sure — A great is better than a little aim. Colombe's Birthday. March Ninth Whoso loves believes the impossible. Aurora Leigh. [29] FROM DAY TO DAY WJF.y$< y^ ?$< to*. }Qk y^y^y^r^y^y^ry^y^y^y^y^ March Tenth What stops my despair? This; — 'tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do! Saul. March Eleventh Through the Valley of Love I went, In its lovingest spot to abide, And just on the verge where I pitched my tent I found Hate dwelling beside. And further, I traversed Hate's grove, In its hatef ullest nook to dwell ; But lo, where I flung myself prone, couched Love Where the deepest shadows fell. Pippa Passes. March Twelfth But all the world's coarse thumb And finger failed to plumb, So passed in making up the main account; All instincts immature, All purposes unsure, That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount. Rabbi Ben Ezra. [30] WITH THE BROWNINGS y*x >*x X4X x$* y*x x*x x*x y^ yj£ yfi v^ >^C vjv: >?* T^"??^ "?^"x$? March Thirteenth If thou must love me, let it be for naught Except for love's sake only. Do not say "I love her for her smile — her look — her way Of speaking gently, — for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day" — For these things in themselves, beloved, may Be changed, or change for thee, — and love, so wrought, May be unwrought so. Neither love me for Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry — A creature might forget to weep, who bore Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby ! But love me for love's sake, that evermore Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity. Sonnets from the Portuguese, March Fourteenth I send my heart up to thee, all my heart In this my singing. For the stars help me, and the sea bears part ; The very night is clinging Closer to Venice' streets to leave one space Above me, whence thy face May light my joyous heart to thee its dwelling- place. — In a Gondola, [81] FROM DAY TO DAY March Fifteenth Are there not, dear Michal, Two points in the adventure of the diver, One, — when, a beggar, he prepares to plunge? One, — when, a prince, he rises with his pearl? Paracelsus. March Sixteenth Two human loves make one divine. I sobeV s Child. March Seventeenth Nay but you, who do not love her, Is she not pure gold, my mistress? Holds earth aught — speak truth — above her? Aught like this tress, see, and this tress, And this last fairest tress of all, So fair, see, ere I let it fall? Because you spend your lives in praising; To praise, you search the wide world over; Then why not witness, calmly gazing, If earth holds aught — speak truth — above her ? Above this tress, and this, I touch But cannot praise, I love so much ! Song. [32] WITH THE BROWNINGS March Eighteenth If one could have that little face of hers Painted upon a background of pale gold, Such as the Tuscan's early art prefers! No shade encroaching on the matchless mold Of those two lips, which should be opening soft In the pure profile ; not as when she laughs, For that spoils all: but rather as if aloft Yon hyacinth, she loves so, leaned its staff's Burden of honey-colored buds to kiss And capture 'twixt the lips apart for this. A Face. March Nineteenth Every age Through being beheld too close, is ill discerned. Aurora Leigh. March Twentieth Thou dost well in rejecting the mere comforts that spring From the mere mortal life held in common by man and the brute: In our flesh grows the branch of this life, in our soul it bears fruit. Saul. [33] FROM DAY TO DAY March Twenty-first That gift of his from God descended. Ah, friend, what gift of man's does not. Christmas Eve. March Twenty-second God Himself is the best Poet, And the Real is His song. The Dead Pan. March Twenty-third Since when was genius found respectable? Aurora Leigh. March Twenty-fourth Luitolfo was the proper Friend-making, everywhere friend-finding soul, Fit for the sunshine, so, it followed him. A happy-tempered bringer of the best Out of the worst. — A Soul's Tragedy. March Twenty-fifth We find great things are made of little things, And little things go lessening, till at last Comes God behind them. Mr. Sludge, "The Medium." [34] WITH THE BROWNINGS March Twenty-sixth All service ranks the same with God: If now, as formerly He trod Paradise, His presence fills Our earth, each only as God wills Can work — God's puppets, best and worst, Are we; there is no last nor first. Say not "a small event!" "Why small"? Costs it more pain that this, ye call A "great event," should come to pass Than that? Untwine me from the mass Of deeds which make up life, one deed Power shall fall short in or exceed! Pippa Passes. March Twenty-seventh Oppression makes the wise man mad. Luria. March Twenty-eighth Why, where's the need of Temple, when the walls O' the world are that? — Dramatis Persona. March Twenty-ninth When the prophet beats the ass, The angel intercedes. — Aurora Leigh. [35] FROM DAY TO DAY ?$^>y*r>^ yp: >j^ ypz tqz y^: y^: ypK y^y^y^: yp; t^k y^: y^y^: March Thirtieth Love-making, — how simple a matter! No depths to explore, No heights in a life to ascend! No dishearten- ing Before, No affrighting Hereafter, — love now will be love evermore. So I felt "To keep silence were folly:" — all language above, I made love. Fcrisht ah's Fancies. March Thirty-first All the breath and the bloom of the year in the bag of one bee : All the wonder and wealth of the mine in the heart of one gem: In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea: Breath and bloom, shade and shine, wonder, wealth, and — how far above them! — Truth, that's brighter than gem, Trust, that's purer than pearl, — Brightest truth, purest trust in the unive: all were for me In the kiss of one girl. Sum mum Bonum. [36] WITH THE BROWNINGS >FT7FT^ v^ >?* W v?v >$*>?* y^ yp. yp. y^y^y^y^y^T^- APRIL April First Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree boles are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England — now! Home-Thoughts, from Abroad. April Second In youth I looked to these very skies And, probing their immensities, I found God there, His visible power; Yet felt in my heart, amid all its sense Of the power, an equal evidence That His love, there too, was the nobler dower. For the loving worm within its clod Were diviner than a loveless god Amid his worlds, I will dare to say. Christmas Eve. [37] FROM DAY TO DAY April Third The year's at the spring And day's at the morn ; Morning's at seven ; The hillside's dew-pearled; The lark's on the wing; The snail's on the thorn : God's in His Heaven — All's right with the world! Pippa Passes, April Fourth I act for, talk for, live for this world now, As this world calls for action, life and talk — No prejudice to what next world may prove. Bishop Blougram y s Apology. April Fifth Nothing worth keeping is ever lost in this world. — Pippa Passes. April Sixth I seek no copy now of life's first half: Leave here the pages with long musing curled, And write me new my future's epigraph, New angel mine, unhoped for in the world! Sonnets from the Portuguese. [38] WITH THE BROWNINGS >?* yp< x^" x|v y$K y$K v$\ >$* y^y^K y$* >*x >^x x^x x^x x*x ^"xj? April Seventh Man's work is to labor and leaven — As best he may — earth here with Heaven ; 'Tis work for work's sake that he's needing. Of Pacchiarotto. April Eighth The devil's most devilish when respectable. Aurora Leigh. April Ninth 'Tis in the advance of individual minds That the slow crowd should ground their ex- pectation Eventually to follow; as the sea Waits ages in its bed till some one wave Out of the multitudinous mass, extends The empire of the whole. — Paracelsus. April Tenth The thing that seems Mere misery, under human schemes, Becomes, regarded by the light Of Love, as very near, or quite As good a gift as joy before. Christmas Eve. [39] FROM DAY TO DAY yfK /$< xix X4> y^y^y^. y^T^'j^i. v^vvjv v?x >?v: t^t^t^t^ April Eleventh Look round, look up, and feel, a moment's space, That carpet-dusting, though a pretty trade, Is not the imperative labor after all. Aurora Leigh. April Twelfth Not on the vulgar mass Called "work," must sentence pass, Things done, that took the eye and had the price ; O'er which, from level stand, The low world laid its hand, Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice. — Rabbi Ben Ezra. April Thirteenth There's a further good conceivable Beyond the utmost earth can realize. Prince Hohenstiel-Schzvangau. April Fourteenth Only the prism's obstruction shows aright The secret of a sunbeam, breaks its light Into the jewelled bow from blankest white; So may a glory from defect arise. Deaf and Dumb. [40] WITH THE BROWNINGS V3K V|v J4* y*v >|V 7$? >$< V{< ??7 >pc >pc >?* v^ Vf* v^v v;v 7?*^ April Fifteenth Earth is a wintry clod; But spring-wind, like a dancing psaltress, passes Over its breast to awaken it; rare verdure Buds tenderly upon rough banks, between The withered tree-roots and the cracks of frost, Like a smile striving with a wrinkled face ; Above birds fly in merry flocks — the lark Soars up and up, shivering for very joy; Afar the ocean sleeps; white fishing gulls Flit where the strand is purple with its tribe Of nested limpets ; savage creatures seek Their loves in wood and plain ; and God renews His ancient rapture. Paracelsus. April Sixteenth Near all the birds Will sing at dawn — and yet we do not take The chaffering swallow for the holy lark. Aurora Leigh. April Seventeenth Saints, to do us good, must be in Heaven. The Ring and the Book. FROM DAY TO DAY >$< yj* yjv 79779779* J|5 JQ* ^v^vffv^^ ^-,^^r jp W April Eighteenth Here's the spring back or close, When the almond-blossom blows : We shall have the word In that minor third There is none but the cuckoo knows — Heaps of the guelder-rose! I must bear with it, I suppose. A Lover** Quarrel. Apeil Nineteenth Say again, what wo arc? The sprite of a star. I lure thee above whore the destinies bar My plumes their full play Till a ruddier ray Than my pale one announce there is withering away Some . . . Scatter the vision forever ! And now. As of old, I am I, thou art thou! In a Gondola. April Twentieth Of all the commerce done in the world, from Tyro to Carthago, the exchange o{ sympathy for gratitude is the most, princely thing. E. B. to li. B., Jan.' 11. IS [ ** ] WITH THE BROWNINGS April Twenty-first What girl but, having gathered flowers, Stripped the beds and spoilt the bowers, From the lapful light she carries Drops a careless bud? — nor tarries To refrain the waif and stray: "Store enough for home" — she'll say. So say I too: give your lover Heaps of loving — under, over, Whelm him — make the one the wealthy 1 Am I all so poor who — stealthy Work it was ! — picked up what fell : Not the worst bud — who can tell? Humility. April Twenty-second Thought is the soul of act. Sordcllo. April Twenty-third Spring's first breath Blew soft from the moist hills — the blackthorn boughs. So dark in the bare woods, when glistening In the sunshine were white with coming buds, Like the bright side of a sorrow. Pauline. [48] FROM DAY TO DAY April Twenty-fourth You never know what life means till you die: Even throughout life, 'tis death that makes life live, Give it whatever the significance. The Ring and the Book. April Twenty-fifth There shall never be one lost good ! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound ; What was good shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more ; On earth the broken arcs ; in heaven, a perfect round. — Abt Vogler. April Twenty-sixth Oh, we're sunk enough here, God knows ! But not quite so sunk that moments, Sure tho' seldom, are denied us, When the spirit's true endowments Stand out plainly from its false ones, And apprise it if pursuing Or the right way or the wrong way, To its triumph or undoing. Christina. [44] WITH THE BROWNINGS W V** V|V V^ V|V W^y^y^T^y^ >J< >?* >|< V^TT?^^/^^ April Twenty-seventh The moth's kiss, first! Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure, this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed Its petals up ; so, here and there You brush it, till I grow aware Who wants me, and wide ope I burst. The bee's kiss, now ! Kiss me as if you entered gay My heart at some noonday, A bud that dares not disallow The claim, so all is rendered up, And passively its shattered cup Over your head to sleep I bow. In a Gondola. April Twenty-eighth Life treads on life, and heart on heart, We press too close, in church and mart, To keep a dream or grave apart. Vision of Poets. April Twenty-ninth One does see somewhat when one shuts one'j. eyes. — Mr. Sludge, "The Medium." [45] FROM DAY TO DAY v^ W >^ >*v >jv y^y^: TfK^y^ >l< >^ '*$< '4* "^t^t^^ April Thirtieth All I can say is — I saw it! The room was as bare as your hand. I locked in the swarth little lady, — I swear, From the head to the foot of her — well, quite as bare! "No Nautch shall cheat me," said I, "taking my stand At this bolt which I draw!" And this bolt— I withdraw it, And there stands the lady, not bare, but em- bowered With — who knows what verdure, o'er fruited, o'erflowered? Impossible! Only — I saw it! All I can sing is — I feel it! This life was as blank as that room ; I let you pass in here. Precaution, indeed? Walls, ceiling, and floor, — not a chance for a weed ! Wide opens the entrance: where's cold now, where's gloom? No May to sow seed here, no June to reveal it, Behold you enshrined in these blooms of your bringing, These fruits of your bearing — nay, birds of your winging! A fairy tale ! Only — I feel it ! — Natural Magic, [46] WITH THE BROWNINGS MAY May First And after April, when May follows And the whitethroat builds, and all the swal- lows! Hark, where my blossomed pear tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge— That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture! And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower — Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower! Home-Thoughts, from Abroad. May Second If you get simple beauty, and naught else, You get about the best thing God invents. Fra hippo Lippi. [47] FROM DAY TO DAY >J< v^c V|< v?v Vjv v*v y*v y$K >>x >^ >$v >♦> y 4 x y*v y^x 7?*^ May Third People would hardly ever tell falsehoods about a matter, if they had been let tell truth in the beginning. R. B. to E. B., Feb. 11, 18^5. May Fourth Shutting out fear with all the strength of hope. . . . The sunrise Well warranted our faith in this full noon ! Paracelsus. May Fifth A living glory-bath Of air and light where seems to float and move The wooded watered country, hill and dale And steel-bright thread of stream, a-smoke with mist, A-sparlde with May morning, diamond drift O' the sun-touched dew. The Inn Alb inn. May Sixth The incoherences of change and death Are represented fully, mixed and merged, In the smooth fair mystery of perpetual Life. Aurora Leigh, [48] WITH THE BROWNINGS May Seventh 'Tis a fine thing that one, weak as myself, Should sit in his lone room, knowing the words He utters in his solitude shall move Men like a swift wind — that though he be for- gotten. Fair eyes shall glisten when his beauteous dreams Of love, come true in happier frames than his. Pauline. May Eighth The god in babe's disguise. Heading a Book. May Ninth Women know The way to rear up children (to be just), They know a simple, merry, tender knack Of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, And stringing pretty words that make no sense, And kissing full sense into empty words ; Which things are corals to cut life upon, Although such trifles. — Aurora Leigh. May Tenth I judge people by what they might be — not are, nor will be. — A Soul's Tragedy. [49] FROM DAY TO DAY May Eleventh The proper process of unsinning sin Is to begin well doing. The Ring and the Book. May Twelfth God said, "A praise is in mine ear ; "There is no doubt in it, no fear: "So sing old worlds, and so "New worlds that from my footstool go." The Boy and the Angel. May Thirteenth It is well to fly towards the light, even where there may be some fluttering and bruising of wings against the windowpanes, is it not? E. B. to R. B., March 5, 1845. May Fourteenth Thou hast Life, then — wilt challenge life for us : Thy race Is vindicated so, obtains its place In Thy ascent, the first of us ; whom we May follow, to the meanest, finally, With our more bounded wills. — Sordello. [50] WITH THE BROWNINGS TO* v^c v$k w/p. v$k v$k y^y^y^: yp. w$k v?< y^y^y^ y^y^: May Fifteenth Such a starved bank of moss Till, that May morn, Blue ran the flash across : Violets were born! Sky — what a scowl of cloud Till, near and far, Ray on ray split the shroud: Splendid, a star! World — how it walled about Life with disgrace Till God's own smile came out: That was thy face! The Two Poets of Croisic. May Sixteenth As it was better, youth Should strive, through acts uncouth, Toward making, than repose on aught found made. Rabbi Ben Ezra. May Seventeenth Womanliness means only motherhood; All love begins and ends there. The Inn Album. [51] FROM DAY TO DAY tqk ■/$< >?* >?y" v^c yp. tqk 'jQstyp >i* v*v y*v y^y^y^y^ y^y^r May Eighteenth The great beacon-light God sets in all, The conscience of each bosom. — Strafford. May Nineteenth You paint a portrait for a friend, Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it Long after he has ceased to love you, just To hold together what he was and is. Aurora Leigh. May Twentieth "There is no God," the foolish saith, But none, "There is no sorrow" ; And nature oft the cry of faith In bitter need will borrow. Cry of the Human. May Twenty-first And thus looking within and around me, I ever renew (With that stoop of the soul which in bending upraises it too) The submission of Man's nothing-perfect to God's All-Complete ; As by each new obeisance in spirit, I climb to His feet! —Saul. [52] WITH THE BROWNINGS May Twenty-second Flower o' the broom, Take away love, and our earth is a tomb ! Flower o' the quince, I let Lisa go, and what good is life since? Flower o' the rose, If I've been merry, what matter who knows? Flower o' the clove, All the Latin I construe is "amo," I love ! Flower o' the pine, You keep your manners, and I'll stick to mine! Flower o' the peach, Death for us all, and his own life for each ! Fra Lippo Lippi. May Twenty-third The past is in its grave, Though its ghost haunts us. Pauline. May Twenty-fourth A man can have but one life, and one death, One heaven, one hell. In a Balcony. [53] FROM DAY TO DAY y^y^y^K >^">jv >^ jqz jqs. jqs t^k v^: '*♦*: t$? ~«*v: ~«^ 7$z jqs, ^ May Twenty-fifth Had I no experience how a lip's mere tremble, Look's half hesitation, cheek's just change of color, These effect a heartquake, — how should I con- ceive What a heaven there may he? Let it but re- semble Earth myself have known ! No bliss that's finer, fuller. Only — bliss that lasts, they say, and fain would I believe. — Ferishtah's Fancies. May Twexty-sixth Praise is deeper than the lips. — HervS Rich May T\y knty-sevexth I have not chanted verse like Homer's, no — Nor swept string like Terpander, no — nor carved And painted men like Phidias and his friend: I am not great as they are, point by point: But I have entered into sympathy With these four, running these into one soul, Who, separate, ignored each other's arts. Say, is it nothing that I know them all? Clcon. [54] WITH THE BROWNINGS 7^7^ --?* 7^ "jqs J&. -^ ^ JQS. -♦x 7fK 7Qk TFJQnqFTQZ 7Qk 7& Mat Twenty-eighth I dwell amid the city over. The groat humanity which beats Its life along the stony streets. Like a strong and unsunned river In a selfmade course, I sit and hearken while it rolls. Aery sad and very hoarse Certes is the flow of souls ; Infinitest tendencies By the finite pressed and pent, In the finite, turbulent : How we tremble in surprise When sometimes, with an awful sound, God's great plummet strikes the ground! The Soul's Traveling. May Twexty-xixth And what is our failure here but a triumph's evidence For the fulness of the davs? — Abt Vosrler. May Thirtieth Perfect strains may float 'Neath master-hands, from instruments de- faced, — And great souls, at one stroke, may do ami doat. — Sonnets from the Portuguese. [55] FROM DAY TO DAY v?v y^y^y^f^r^y^y^y^y\\y^:y^: May Thirty-first Good, to forgive; Best, to forget! Living, we fret ; Dying, we live. Fretless and free, Soul, clap thy pinion ! Earth have dominion, Body, o'er thee! Wander at will, Day after day, — Wander away, Wandering still — Soul that canst soar ! Body may slumber : Body shall cumber Soul-flight no more. Waft of soul's wing! What lies above? Sunshine and Love, Skyblue and Spring! Body hides — where? Ferns of all feather, Mosses, and heather, Yours be the care ! La Saisiaz. [56] WITH THE BROWNINGS JUNE June First Your ghost will walk, you lover of trees, (If our loves remain) In an English lane, By a cornfield-side a-flutter with poppies. Hark, those two in the hazel coppice — A boy and a girl, if the good fates please, Making love, say, — The happier they ! Draw yourself up from the light of the moon, And let them pass, as they will too soon, With the beanflowers' boon, And the blackbird's tune, And May, and June! "De Gustibus — " June Second It was roses, roses all the way. The Patriot. June Third You should not take a fellow eight years old And make him swear to never kiss the girls. Fra Lippo Lip pi [57] FROM DAY TO DAY >j*c yq< y^c vj*c vjv v**7^^??^7Fr^^7^?FC>?*: y^y^y^ June Fourth What's the best thing in the world? June-rose, by May-dew impearled; Sweet south-wind, that means no rain ; Truth, not cruel to a friend ; Pleasure, not in haste to end; Beauty, not self-decked and curled Till its pride is over-plain ; Light, that never makes you wink; Memory, that gives no pain ; Love, when, so, you're loved again. What's the best thing in the world? — Something out of it, I think. The Best Thing in the World. June Fifth Well for those who live through June! Great noontides, thunder-storms, all glaring pomps Which triumph at the heels of sovereign June, Leading his glorious revel through our world ! Pippa Passes. June Sixth Any nose May ravage with impunity a rose. Sordello. [58] W-ITH THE BROWNINGS June Seventh You'll love me yet! — and I can tarry Your love's protracted growing: June reared that bunch of flowers you carry, From seeds of April's sowing. I plant a heartf ul now : some seed At least is sure to strike, And yield — what you'll not pluck indeed, Not love, but, may be, like. You'll look at least on love's remains, A grave's one violet: Your look? — that pays a thousand pains. What's death? You'll love me yet! Pippa Passes. June Eighth God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures Boasts two soul-sides, — one to face the world with, One to show a woman when he loves her. One Word More. June Ninth O world as God has made it! All is beauty. The Guardian Angel. [59] FROM DAY TO DAY June Tenth What hand and brain went ever paired? What heart alike conceived and dared? What act proved all its thought had been? What will but felt the fleshly screen? The Last Ride Together. June Eleventh "Yes!" I answered you last night; "No!" this morning, sir, I say: Colors seen by candlelight Will not look the same by day. The Lady's Yes. June Twelfth For thence, — a paradox Which comforts while it mocks, — Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail: What I aspired to be And was not, comforts me. Rabbi Ben Ezra. June Thirteenth Keep but ever looking, whether with the body's eye or the mind's, and you will soon find something to look on ! — Pip pa Passes. [60] WITH THE BROWNINGS June Fourteenth This flower she stopped at, finger on lip, Stooped over, in doubt, as settling its claim ; Till she gave me, with pride to make no slip, Its soft meandering Spanish name: What a name! Was it love or praise? Speech half-asleep or song half-awake? I must learn Spanish, one of these days, Only for that sweet name's sake. . . . Where I mid her not, beauties vanish; Whither I follow her, beauties flee; Is there no method to tell her in Spanish June's twice June since she breathed it with me? Come, bud, show me the least of her traces, Treasure my lady's lightest footfall! — Ah, you may flout and turn up your faces — Roses, you are not so fair after all! The Flower's Name. June Fifteenth There is no good of life but love — but love! What else looks good, is some shade flung from love — ■ Love gilds it, gives it worth. Be warned by me. In a Balcony. [61] FROM DAY TO DAY yfs:y^K y^ >*v v^v v^v y^y^y^y^ y^, y^ v^y^ yp. y$< y^y^K June Sixteenth No, when the fight begins within himself, A man's worth something. Bishop Blougram's Apology. June Seventeenth Though I be lost, I know which is the better, never fear, Of vice or virtue, purity or lust, Nature or trick — I see what I have done, Entirely now! . . . God's in His heaven! Pippa Passes. June Eighteenth I envy — how I envy him whose mind Turns with its energies to some one end! Pauline. June Nineteenth There is truth in falsehood, falsehood in truth. A Soul's Tragedy. June Twentieth Such was ever love's way ; to rise, it stoops. A Death in the Desert. [62] WITH THE BROWNINGS June Twenty-first Love you seek for, presupposes Summer heat and sunny glow. Tell me, do you find moss-roses Budding, blooming in the snow? Snow might kill the rose tree's root — Shake it quickly from your foot, Lest it harm you as you go. From the ivy where it dapples A gray ruin, stone by stone Do you look for grapes or apples, Or for sad green leaves alone? Pluck the leaves off, two or three — • Keep them for morality When you shall be safe and gone. Question and Answer, June Twenty-second Let a man contend to the uttermost For his life's set prize, be it what it will. The Statue and the Bust. June Twenty-third There's a real love of a lie, Liars find ready made for lies they make. Mr. Sludge, "The Medium: 9 [63] FROM DAY TO DAY >j^*j*-«j* vj* .^ v^: xjr ^ ?gs .^ -.^ ^ -,^ -.^ v^ ~.^ rjr »♦* Juke Twenty-fourth And hero am I the scoffer, who have probed Life's vanity, won by a word again Into my old life — for one little word Of this sweet friend, who lives in loving- me. FanHin'. June Twenty-fifth Fire is in the Hint: true, once a spark escapes. Fire forgets the kinship, soars till fancy shapes Some befitting cradle where the babe had birth— Wholly Heaven's the product, unallied to earth. Splendors recognized as perfect in the star! — In our flint their home was, housed as now they are. Fcrishtah's Fancies. June Twenty-sixth Is this apparent, when thou turn'st to muse Upon the scheme of earth, and man in chief. That admiration grows as knowledge grows? That imperfection means perfection bid, Reserved in part to grace the after-time? Ch-on. I 64] WITH THE BROWNINGS p?\ '-♦* J^ '•?* J|5 -^ -^ 7^5 J^ ~«^ v^ Hp ^ ^ ^ ~-+\ *;v ~*?c J r x e Twenty-seventh You love all. you say, Round, beneath, above me: Find me then some way Better than to love me, Me, too, dearest May! world-kissing eyes Which the blue heavens melt to ; 1 sad, overwise. Loathe the sweet looks dealt to All things — men and flies. You love all, you say : Therefore, Dear, abate me Just 3'our love, I pray ! Shut your eyes and hate me — Only me — fair May ! May's Lore. June Twenty-eighth So we will go and think again, And all old loves shall come to us — but changed As some sweet thought which harsh words veiled before ; Feeling God loves us, and that all that errs. Is a strange dream which death will dissipate. Paulinr. [65] FROM DAY TO DAY 74* vp. V$< V|X y±x vjx V4V >|y 7j? >^ y^ x*x x*x y*x x+x ^ 7^7?^ June Twenty-ninth Of all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward into souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this, — "He giveth His beloved sleep" ? — The Sleep June Thirtieth All June I bound the rose in sheaves. Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves And strew them where Pauline must pass. She will not turn aside? Alas! Let them lie. Suppose they die? The chance was they might take her eye. How many a month I strove to suit These stubborn fingers to the lute! To-day I venture all I know. She will not hear my music ? So ! Break tRe string; fold music's wing: Suppose Pauline had bade me sing ! My whole life long I learned to love. This hour my utmost art I prove And speak my passion — heaven or hell? She will not give me heaven? 'Tis well! Lose who may — I still can say, Those who win heaven, blest are they ! One Way of Love. [66] WITH THE BROWNINGS w y^. y^y^y^y^wr^Ky^: yp- >i* y^ y^ wtftftftf JULY July First What was he doing, the great god Pan, Down in the reeds by the river? Spreading ruin and scattering ban, Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat, And breaking the golden lilies afloat With the dragon-fly on the river. He tore out a reed, the great god Pan, From the deep cool bed of the river: The limpid water turbidly ran, And the broken lilies a-dying lay, And the dragon-fly had fled away, Ere he brought it out of the river. High on the shore sat the great god Pan While turbidly flowed the river ; And hacked and hewed as a great god can, With his hard bleak steel at the patient reed, Till there was not a sign of the leaf indeed To prove it fresh from the river. He cut it short, did the great god Pan ? (How tall it stood in the river !) Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man, [67] FROM DAY TO DAY >** x(k y^y^r^s: v^ v^c y^y^y^ypK v^c >?* y^y^y^y^y^ Steadily from the outside ring, And notched the poor dry empty thing In holes, as he sat by the river. "This is the way," laughed the great god Pan (Laughed while he sat by the river), "The only way, since gods began To make sweet music, they could succeed." Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed, He blew in power by the river. Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan ! Piercing sweet by the river! Blinding sweet, O great god Pan! The sun on the hill forgot to die, And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly Came back to dream on the river. Yet half a beast is the great god Pan, To laugh as he sits by the river, Making a poet out of a man : The true gods sigh for the cost and pain, — For the reed which grows nevermore again As a reed with the reeds in the river. A Musical Instrument. July Second Youth means love ; Vows can't change nature. The Ring and the Book. [68] WITH THE BROWNINGS y^y^y^y^i^y^sr^Ki^^K >jk y+v y^c y p . y ^ y^y^y^y^: July Thied A people is but the attempt of many To rise to the completer life of one ; And those who live as models for the mass Are singly of more value than they all. Luria. July Fourth But little do or can the best of us : That little is achieved through Liberty. Who, then, dares hold, emancipated thus, His fellow shall continue bound ? Not I, Who live, love, labor freely, nor discuss A brother's right to freedom. That is "Why." — Why lama Liberal. July Fifth Truth is within ourselves : it takes no rise From outward things, whate'er you may believe. There is an inmost center in us all, Where truth abides in fulness. Paracelsus. July Sixth Truth is the strong thing. Let man's life be true! In a Balcony. [69] FROM DAY TO DAY July Seventh Man must pass from old to new, From vain to real, from mistake to fact, From what once seemed good, to what now proves best. — A Death hi the Desert. July Eighth Why waste a word, or let a tear escape, While other sorrows wait you in the world. Bala it 8 t ion's A dventure. July Ninth Would you have your songs endure? Build on the human heart. — Sordcllo. July Tenth I have not so far left the coasts of life To travel inland, that I cannot hear That murmur of the outer Infinite Which un weaned babes smile at in their sleep When wondered at for smiling. Aurora Leigh. July Eleventh Ever with the best desert goes diffidence. A Blot in the 'Scutcheon. [70] WITH THE BROWNINGS T^y^y^y^y^y^vfi. vjv y^y^ry^. y^y v^c >^ x^. x^x y+x "^ July Twelfth This is a spray the Bird clung to, Making it blossom with pleasure, Ere the high tree-top she sprung to, Fit for her nest and her treasure. Oh, what a hope beyond measure Was the poor spray's, which the flying feet hung to, — So to be singled out, built in, and sung to! This is a heart the Queen leant on, Thrilled in a minute erratic, Ere the true bosom she bent on, Meet for love's regal dalmatic. Oh, what a fancy ecstatic Was the poor heart's, ere the wanderer went on — - Love to be saved for it, proffered to, spent on! Misconceptions. July Thirteenth O lyric Love, half angel and half bird, And all a wonder and a wild desire! The Ring and the Book. July Fourteenth Stark-naked truth is in request enough. "Transcendentalism. 19 [71] FROM DAY TO DAY W > ^ >?< viv 7^ y& >^ v+v y^ 7^: >^ w >y >?* y+* y+v nv tet July Fifteenth Needs must there be one way, our chief Best way of worship : let me strive To find it, and when found, contrive My fellows also take their share. Easter Day. July Sixteenth With truth and purity go other gifts! All gifts come clustering to that. The Return of the Druses. July Seventeenth Genius has somewhat of the infantine: But of the childish not a touch or taint. Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau. July Eighteenth Who keeps one end in view makes all things serve. In a Balcony. July Nineteenth Life is probation, and the earth no goal But starting point of man. The Ring and the Book. [72] WITH THE BROWNINGS iqk y?i. }QK7Qi WW y^r^Ky^: yj* y^: v$v v^c vjv v?v y$< 7^7?* July Twentieth There is no one beside thee and no one above thee, Thou standest alone as the nightingale sings ! And my words that would praise thee are im- potent things, For none could express thee though all should approve thee. I love thee so, dear, that I only can love thee. Say, what can I do for thee? weary thee, grieve thee? Lean on thy shoulder, new burdens to add? Weep my tears over thee, making thee sad? Oh, hold me not — love me not! let me retrieve thee. I love thee, so, dear, that I only can leave thee. Insufficiency. July Twenty-first There's many a crown for who can reach. The Last Ride Together. July Twenty-second Other heights in other lives, God willing: All the gifts from all the heights, your own, love! — One Word More. [73] FROM DAY TO DAY >j< >j< >?v yfv /4V v|v V|V yjv iqz y*x yf* y*x ^r^ x^c y^x y$* *$< July Twenty-third Burrow awhile and build, broad on the roots of things. Abt Vogler. July Twenty-fourth Inscribe all human effort with one word, Artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete! The Ring and the Book. July Twenty-fifth Never cheat yourself one instant. Love, Give love, ask only love, and leave the rest. In a Balcony. July Twenty-sixth The thing I pity most In man is — action prompted by surprise Of anger. A Forgiveness. July Twenty-seventh This world's no blot for us, Nor blank — it means intensely, and means good : To find its meaning is my meat and drink. Fra Lippo Lippi. [74] WITH THE BROWNINGS yj* yj* yj* yj* y*v vfofofo^^yfofof* y^v y*v y;v y*v 7^.' July Twenty-eighth A simple ring with a single stone, To the vulgar no stone of price : Whisper the right word, that alone — Forth starts a sprite, like fire from ice, And lo, you are lord (says an Eastern scroll) Of Heaven and earth, lord whole and sole Through the power in a pearl. A woman ('tis I this time that say) With little the world counts worthy praise: Utters the true word — out and away Escapes her soul: I am wrapped in blaze, Creation's lord, of Heaven and earth Lord whole and sole — by a minute's birth — Through the love in a girl. A Pearl, a Girl. July Twenty-ninth 'Tis the taught already that profits by teach- ing. — Christmas Eve. July Thirtieth I will pass by and see their happiness, And envy none — being just as great, no doubt, Useful to men, and dear to God, as they ! Pippa Passes. [75] FROM DAY TO DAY 7Q*. v?v W*. W V|V VJ* Vf* >|V "?|? >?v >$* 7^r7?^y*x Jfp >^ "^"?K July Thirty-first Sweet, thou hast trod on a heart. Pass; there's a world full of men; And women as fair as thou art ' Must do such things now and then. Thou hast only stepped unaware, — Malice, not one can impute; And why should a heart have been there In the way of a fair woman's foot? It was not a stone that could trip, Nor was it a thorn that could rend: Put up thy proud under-lip ! 'Twas merely the heart of a friend. And yet peradventure one day Thou, sitting alone at the glass, Remarking the look gone away, Where the smile in its dimplement was. And seeking around thee in vain From hundreds who flattered before, Such a word as "Oh, not in the main Do I hold thee less precious, but more!" . . . Thou'lt sigh, very like, on thy part, "Of all I have known or could know, I wish I had only that Heart I trod upon ages ago !" — A False Step, [76] WITH THE BROWNINGS w v& w yQiTFW'Q* W y^ v^ w wwW'Q* y^y^yfK AUGUST August First Wanting is — what? Summer redundant, Blueness abundant, — Where is the blot ? Beamy the world, yet a blank all the same, — Framework which waits for a picture to frame : What of the leafage, what of the flower? Roses embowering with naught they embower! Come then, complete incompletion, O comer, Pant through the blueness, perfect the summer ! Breathe but one breath Rose-beauty above, And all that was death Grows life, grows love, Grows love. — Wanting is — What? August Second Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God ; But only he who sees, takes off his shoes ; The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries, And daub their natural faces unaware More and more from the first similitude. Aurora Leigh, [77] FROM DAY TO DAY W< y^. v^k vfK y$i. v^: v?v v^y^: •/^•/^i.y^.y^.y^y^.y^. t^t^c August Third It was not strange I saw no good in man, In my own heart love had not been made wise To trace love's faint beginnings in mankind, To know even hate is but a mask of love's, jTo see a good in evil, and a hope In ill-success. Paracelsus. August Fourth And because my heart I proffered, With true love trembling at the brim, He suffers me to follow him. Christmas Eve. August Fifth But a bird's weight can break the infant tree Which after holds an aery in its arms. Luria. August Sixth I feel, sweet friend, As one breathing his weakness to the ear Of pitying angel — dear as a winter flower ; A slight flower growing all alone, and offering Its frail cup of three leaves to the cold sun, Yet joyous and confiding, like the triumph Of a child. — Pauline. [78] WITH THE BROWNINGS August Seventh Out of your whole life give but a moment ! All of your life that has gone before, All to come after it, — so you ignore, So you make perfect the present, — condense, In a rapture of rage, for perfection's endow- ment, Thought and feeling and soul and sense — Merged in a moment which gives me at last You around me for once, you beneath me, above me — Me — sure that despite of time future, time past, — This tick of our lifetime's one moment you love me! How long such suspension may linger? Ah, Sweet — The moment's eternal — just that and no more — When ecstasy's utmost we clutch at the core While cheeks burn, arms open, eyes shut, and lips meet! — — Now. August Eighth He looked at her, as a lover can ; She looked at him, as one who awakes, — The past was a sleep, and her life began. The Statue and the Bust, [79] FROM DAY TO DAY >^x x*x xjx yf< -JF x|x xjx y^y^ V|V V|V y|V V|V >jy vjv V^ 7^"?^ August Ninth How good is man's life here, mere living! How fit to employ The heart and the soul and the senses Foreevr in j oy ! — Saul. August Tenth All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist ; Not its semblance, but itself ; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conceptions of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; Enough that He heard it once : we shall hear it by-and-by. — Abt Vogler. August Eleventh 'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls, And matter enough to save one's own. A Light Woman. [80] WITH THE BROWNINGS August Twelfth Some people always sigh in thanking God. Aurora Leigh. August Thirteenth O, world, as God has made it! all its beauty: And knowing this, is love, and love is duty. What further may be sought for or declared? The Guardian Angel. August Fourteenth I knew you once: but in Paradise, If we meet, I will pass nor turn my face. The Worst of It. August Fifteenth How sad and bad and mad it was — But then, how it was sweet ! Confessions. August Sixteenth Some think Creation's meant to show Him forth : I say, it's meant to hide Him all it can, And that's what all the blessed Evil's for. Bishop Blougram's Apology. [81] FROM DAY TO D AY -.;v JQ; *.^ .^ -Jy %?y -Jx -^ -^ "«?x "«♦< •♦< MS "■♦X "^x vj< .^ '.^ A r G v BT S v v E NT1 BNTH All women Love great men If young or old; it is in all the talcs. In a Balcony. A r G 1ST 1 \ [OH r E B nth But what it' 1 fail oi' niv purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain. To dry one's eves ami laugh at a fall. Ami baffled, get up to begin again, — So the chase takes up one's life, that's all. Life in a Love. August Nineteenth Be sure that God Ne'er dooms to waste the strength He deigns impart. Paracelsus. Ar G ST TNw BNTTETH I see! You would grow smoothly as a tree. Soar heavenward, straight lv up like tire — God bless you — there's your work! entire! Easter-Day. I 88 J WITH THE BROWNINGS '.J*^ .^ -^ -^ -^ .^ v^: '.^ .^ .Jx jjp .;v '.^ -.^y 5^5 v^x '.Jx Au G U ST T W E X T Y - V 1 U s T You've soon the world — The beauty and the wonder and the power, The shapes of things, their colors, lights and shades. Changes, surprises, — And God made it all! Fra l.'ippo Lip pi. August Twexty-secoxd If this be all— And other life await us not — for one, I say 'tis a poor cheat, a stupid bungle, A wretched failure. 1, for one. protest Against it, and 1 hurl it back with seorn. Paracelsus. August Twenty-third Love's undoing Taught me the worth of love in man's estate. And what proportion love should hold with power In his right constitution; love preceding Tower, and with much power, always much more love ; Love still too straitened in his present means. And earnest for new power to set love free. Paracelsus* [83] FROM DAY TO DAY August Twenty-fourth So in man's self arise August anticipations, symbols, types Of a dim splendor ever on before In that eternal circle life pursues. Paracelsus. August Twenty-fifth We had among us, not so much a spy, As a recording chief -inquisitor, The town's true master, if the town but knew ! We merely kept a governor for form. How it Strikes a Contemporary. August Twenty-sixth Do I find love so full in my nature, God's ulti- mate gift, That I doubt His own love can compete with it? here the parts shift? Here the creatures surpass the Creator, the end what Began? — Saul. August Twenty-seventh Does he paint? he fain would write a poem, — Does he write? he fain would paint a picture. One Word More. [84] WITH THE BROWNINGS y$K Vf«C Vfi jQi. >^C V^C w /$k y^Tf^T^V^ >$* v^t^v?* v^t^t^* August Twenty-eighth To-day's brief passion limits their range, It seethes with the morrow for us and more. They are perfect — how else? they shall never change : We are faulty — why not? we have time in store. The Artificer's hand is not arrested With us — we are rough-hewn, no-wise polished : They stand for our copy, and, once invested With all they can teach, we shall see them abolished. 'Tis a life-long toil till our lump be leaven — The better! what's come to perfection perishes. Things learned on earth, we shall practice in heaven. Works done least rapidly Art most cherishes. Old Pictures in Florence, August Twenty-ninth My reason, blind myself to light, say truth Is false, and lie to God and my own soul? Contempt for all of this ! A Blot in the 'Scutcheon. [85] FROM DAY TO DAY y^yfm^y^. v^v y^ v*v vjvtf: v?v v?< v*v v?< vpc xix x*x t^t?\ August Thirtieth Earth fades, Heaven dawns on me. I shall awake next Before God's throne: the moment's close at hand When man the first, last time, has leave to lay His whole heart bare before his Maker — leave To clear up the long error of a life And choose one happiness for evermore. Strafford. August Thirty-first "So say the foolish !" Say the foolish so, Love? "Flower she is, my rose" — or else, "My very swan is she" — Or perhaps, "Yon maid-moon, blessing earth below, Love, That art Thou!" — to them, belike: no such vain words from me. "Hush, rose, blush ! no balm like breath," I chide it: "Bend thy neck its best, swan, — hers the whiter curve!" Be the moon the moon : my Love I place beside it: What is she? Her human self, — no lower word will serve. — Poetics. [86] WITH THE BROWNINGS SEPTEMBER September First The gray sea and the long black land ; And the yellow half -moon large and low; And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i' the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach; Three fields to cross till a farm appears ; A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears, Than the two hearts beating each to each! Meeting at Night, September Second Round the cape of a sudden came the sea, And the sun looked over the mountain's rim: And straight was a path of gold for him, And the need of a world of men for me. Parting at Morning. [87] FROM DAY TO DAY September Third My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched; That, after Last, returns the First. Apparent Failure. September Fourth Young men, aye, and maids Too often sow their wild oats in tame verse. Aurora Leigh. September Fifth Life's inadequate to joy, As the soul sees joy. . . . And so a man can use but a man's joy While he sees God's. Cleon. September Sixth You're my friend — What a thing friendship is, world without end! The Flight of the Duchess. September Seventh Who knows most, doubts not ; entertaining hope Means recognizing fear. Two Poets of Croisic, [88] WITH THE BROWNINGS yyiWjQi w w TO* ft* wjos w v& y^y^ viv •/$< >^ 7^7^ September Eighth First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since, it grew more clean and white, Slow to world-greetings, quick with its "Oh, list," When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear there, plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. The second passed in height The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed, Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed! That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown, With sanctifying sweetness, did precede. The third upon my lips was folded down, In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed, I have been proud and said, "My love, my own." — Sonnets from the Portuguese, September Ninth Be Hate that fruit, or Love that fruit, It forwards the general Deed of Man, And each of the Many helps to recruit The life of the race by a general plan, Each living his own, to boot. — By the Fireside. [89] FROM DAY TO DAY September Tenth Man seeks his own good at the whole world's cost. — Luria. September Eleventh Ignorance is not innocence, but sin. The Inn Album. September Twelfth How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death. Sonnets from the Portuguese. [90] WITH THE BROWNINGS VI* >i* >|V >;v >|y >?<^^^Hvyj<>jy yft viv ^Tyr??^*"^ ^ x+x *ix >^->yr September Sixteenth Never fear but there's provision Of the Devil's to quench knowledge Lest we walk the earth in rapture! Making those who catch God's secret Just so much more prize their capture. Christina. September Seventeenth I knew, I felt what God is, what we are, What life is — how God tastes an infinite joy In infinite ways — one everlasting bliss, From whom all being emanates, all power Proceeds; in whom is life for evermore, Yet whom existence in its lowest form Includes. — Paracelsus. September Eighteenth Why with old truth needs new truth disagree? Red Cotton Nightcap Country. September Nineteenth And still, as love's brief morning wore, With a gentle start, half smile, half sigh, They found love not as it seemed before. The Statue and the Bust. [92] WITH THE BROWNINGS >yig yfr v^ y ^v >; v >|v >| x /^y^y^y^y^y^ >^ x+x y+x t^t^ September Twentieth Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make, Of all that strong divineness which I know For thine and thee, an image only so Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break. It is that distant years which did not take Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow, Have forced my swimming brain to undergo Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake Thy purity of likeness and distort Thy worthiest love to a worthless counter- feit: As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port, His guardian sea-god to commemorate, Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort And vibrant tail, within the temple-gate. Sonnets from the Portuguese, September Twenty-first Yet, what we call this life of men on earth, This sequence of the soul's achievements here, Being, as I find much reason to conceive, Intended to be viewed eventually As a great whole, not analyzed to parts, But each part having reference to all. Cleon. ,[93] FROM DAY TO DAY xf* x^j^x^^ xix xiv y(< 'm^tsk y;v y;* vjv yj* v^ v^: y^y^ September Twenty-second If I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time ; I press God's lamp Close to my breast; its splendor, soon or late, Will pierce the gloom : I shall emerge one day. Paracelsus. September Twenty-third Enough now, if the Right And Good and Infinite Be named here, as thou callest thy hand thine own, With knowledge absolute, Subject to no dispute From fools that crowded youth, nor let thee alone. Rabbi Ben Ezra. September Twenty-fourth Autumn has come — like Spring returned to us, Won from her girlishness — like one returned A friend that was a lover — nor forgets The first warm love, but full of sober thoughts Of fading years ; whose soft mouth quivers yet With the old smile — but yet so changed and still, — Pauline. [94] WITH THE BROWNINGS JQrfGTPFTQCPfCPF. xjx >*x >^ V^k VSk Vf*. >J< vp. >JV Vf»C ^-^ September Twenty-fifth Days decrease And autumn grows, autumn in everything. Eh? the whole seems to fall into a shape As if I saw alike my work and self And all that I was born to be and do, A twilight-piece. — Andrea del Sarto. September Twenty-sixth Do your best, whether winning or losing it, If you choose to play — is my principle! The Statue and the Bust. September Twenty-seventh You must not pump spring-water unawares Upon a gracious public full of nerves. Aurora Leigh. September Twenty-eighth What is left for us, save, in growth, Of soul, to rise up, far past both, From the gift looking to the Giver, And from the cistern to the River, And from the finite to Infinity, And from man's dust to God's divinity? Christmas Eve. [95] FROM DAY TO DAY j^x xix>fx" y*x yf* yjx x*x x*x xjx x*x x^x x*x xix y^x x^Tj^/^'xK September Twenty-ninth And what procures a man the right to speak In his defence before his fellow-man, But — I suppose — the thought that presently He may have leave to speak before his God His whole defence? A Blot in the 'Scutcheon. September Thirtieth That way Over the mountain, which who stands upon Is apt to doubt if it's indeed a road ; While if he views it from the waste itself, Up goes the line there, plain from base to brow, Not vague mistakeable! what's a break or two Seen from the unbroken desert either side? What if the breaks themselves should prove at last The most consummate of contrivances To train a man's eye, teach him what is faith — And so we stumble at truth's very test? What have we gained then by our unbelief But a life of doubt diversified by faith, For one of faith diversified by doubt? We called the chess-board white — we call it black. Bishop Blougram's 'Apology. [96] WITH THE BROWNINGS OCTOBER October First Ah, Love, but a day And the world has changed ! The sun's away, And the bird estranged ; The wind has dropped, And the sky's deranged: Summer has stopped. Look in my eyes ! Wilt thou change too? Should I find surprise? Shall I find aught new In the old and dear, In the good and true, With the changing year? Thou art a man, But I am thy love. For the lake, its swan; For the dell, its dove; And for thee — (oh, haste!) Me, to bend above, Me, to hold embraced. James Lee's Wife, [97] FROM DAY TO DAY >l< >j*c v^c vjv wpi. >4v >4* viv 4* >;x Tj^r^^r^ >?* >s* x*< t^t^ October Second Oh, Day, if I squander a wavelet of thee, A mite of my twelve hours' treasure, The least of thy gazes and glances, One of thy choices, or one of thy chances, Then shame fall on Asolo, mischief on me! Pippa Passes, October Third You know how love is incompatible With falsehood — purifies, assimilates All other passions to itself. Colombe's Birthday, October Fourth Let a man contend to the uttermost For his life's set prize, be what it will ! The Statue and the Bust, October Fifth To have reared a towering scheme Of happiness, and to behold it razed, Were nothing : all men hope, and see their hopes Frustrate, and grieve awhile, and hope anew. A Blot in the 'Scutcheon. [98] WITH THE BROWNINGS October Sixth Here's the top-peak ! the multitude below- Live, for they can there. This man decided not to Live but Know — Bury this man there? Here — here's his place, where meteors shoot, clouds form, Lightnings are loosened, Stars come and go! let joy break with the storm — ■ Peace let the dew send ! Lofty designs must close in like effects: Loftily lying, Leave him — still loftier than the world suspects, Living and dying. A Grammarian's Funeral, October Seventh Sweet the help of one we have helped. Aurora Leigh. October Eighth You call for faith; I show you doubt, to prove that faith exists. The more of doubt, the stronger faith, I say, If faith o'ercomes doubt. Bishop Blougram's Apology. [99] FROM DAY TO DAY October Ninth Yet I hardly know. When a soul has seen By the means of Evil that Good is best, And through earth and its noise, what is Heaven's serene, — When its faith in the same hath stood the test — • W T hy, the child grown man, you burn the rod, The uses of labor are surely done. Old Pictures in Florence. October Tenth And, as I saw the sin and death, even so See I the need and transiency of both, The good and glory consummated thence. I saw the power; I see the Love, once weak, Resume the Power. A Death in the Desert. October Eleventh Think, when our one soul understands The great Word which makes all things new — ■ When earth breaks up and Heaven expands — How will the change strike me and you In the House not made with hands? By the Fireside. [100] WITH THE BROWNINGS >j< y^ v;v w$k >iv v$< v;v yjv w>^ w W W W W >?< ^TF*: October Twelfth And therefore if to love can be desert, I am not all unworthy. Cheeks as pale As these you see, and trembling knees that fail To bear the burden of a heavy heart, — This weary minstrel-life that once was girt To* climb Aornus, and can scarce avail To pipe now 'gainst the valley nightingale A melancholy music, — why advert To these things? O Beloved, it is plain I am not of thy worth nor for thy place ! And yet, because I love thee, I obtain From that same love this vindicating grace, To live on still in love, and yet in vain, — To bless thee, yet renounce thee to thy face. Sonnets from the Portuguese, October Thirteenth Now may the good God pardon all good men! Aurora Leigh. October Fourteenth Folded his two hands and let them talk, Watching the flies that buzzed. And yet no fool. An Epistle. [101] FROM DAY TO DAY TQrfGCSQZW ViV VJ* V|V V4V V^T 'Mf*. >$* y|X y*x 7J^ Yf* X(k 7^" 7?^ October Fifteenth Light thwarted, breaks A limpid purity to rainbow flakes, Or Shadow, helped, freezes to gloom. Sordello. October Sixteenth Avaunt Falsehood! Thou shalt not keep thy hold on me! Nor even get a hold on me ! The Return of the Druses. October Seventeenth If I live yet, it is for good, more love Through me to men : . . . Such ever was love's way : to rise, it stoops. A Death in the Desert. October Eighteenth The learned eye is still the loving one. Red Cotton Nightcap Country. October Nineteenth Faultless to a fault. The Ring and the Book. [102] WITH THE BROWNINGS y$* vjvv^ v^c viv vjv v^c >n? vjv >|< v?v v?< v^c y^y^y^y^y^ October Twentieth There's a fancy some lean to and others hate — That, when this life is ended, begins New work for the soul in another state, Where it strives and gets weary, loses and wins — ■ Where the strong and the weak, this world's congeries, Repeat in large what they practiced in small, Through life after life in unlimited series ; Only the scale's to be changed, that's all. Old Pictures in Florence. October Twenty-first Therefore to whom turn I but to thee, the in- effable Name? Builder and maker, thou, of houses not made with hands ! Abt Vogler. October Twenty-second And men have oft grown old among their books To die case-hardened in their ignorance, Whose careless youth had promised what long years Of unremitted labor ne'er performed. Paracelsus. [103] FROM DAY TO DAY }Qk W VfK "A* >4* yfr V*\ V|* >4V >|v V*V V|* Vjx V|x V4V /4x >!*?K October Twenty-third Men could not part us with their worldly jars, Nor the seas change us, nor the tempests bend ; Our hands would touch for all the mountain- bars: And, heaven being rolled between us at the end, We should but vow the faster for the stars. Sonnets from the Portuguese. October Twenty-eourth Before the point was mooted "What is God?" No savage man inquired "What am myself?" Much less replied, "First, last, and best of things." A Death in the Desert. October Twenty-fifth Chance cannot change my love, nor time impair. Any Wife to Any Husband. October Twenty-sixth A Man ! — a right true man, however, Whose work was worthy a man's endeavor. Christmas Eve. [104] WITH THE BROWNINGS October Twenty-seventh In this world, who can do a thing, will not — And who would do it, cannot, I perceive: Yet the will's somewhat — somewhat, too, the power — ■ And thus we half -men struggle. At the end, God, I conclude, compensates, punishes. Andrea del Sarto. October Twenty-eighth What matter though I doubt at every pore, Head-doubts, heart-doubts, doubts at fingers' ends, Doubts in the trivial work of every day, Doubts at the very bases of my soul In the grand moments when she probes herself — If finally I have a life to show? Bishop Blougram's Apology. October Twenty-ninth For I intend to get to God, For 'tis to God I speed so fast, For in God's breast, my own abode, Those shoals of dazzling glory past, I lay my spirit down at last. Johannes Agricola in Meditation. [105] FROM DAY TO DAY W WWW w w w w w w w ww w w w W7?? October Thirtieth Oh, the little more, and how much it is ! And the little less, and what worlds away! How a sound shall quicken content to bliss, Or a breath suspend the blood's best play, An life be a proof of this ! — By the Fireside, October Thirty-first Oh, wilt thou have my hand, dear, to He along in thine? As a little stone in a running stream, it seems to lie and pine. Now drop the poor pale hand, dear, unfit to plight with thine. Oh, wilt thou have my cheek, dear, drawn closer to thine own? My cheek is white, my cheek is worn, by many a tear run down. Now leave a little space, dear, lest it should wet thine own. Oh, must thou have my soul, dear, commingled with thy soul? — Red grows the cheek, and warm the hand; the part is in the whole : Nor hands nor cheeks keep separate, when soul is joined to soul. — Inclusions, [106] WITH THE BROWNINGS NOVEMBER November First Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth, This autumn morning! How he sets his bones To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet For the ripple to run over in its mirth ; Listening the while, where on the heap of stones The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet. That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true ; Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows. If you loved only what were worth your love, Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you: Make the low nature better by your throes ! Give earth yourself, go up for gain above ! Among the Rocks. November Second Our best is bad, nor bears Thy test; Still, it should be our very best. Christmas Eve, [ 107 ]. FROM DAY TO DAY vp. v?< W w y^v vjv v;v y®i.WjQ* '^ >l< >l< >?< v?< >?< "^"^ November Third Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore Alone upon the threshold of my door Of individual life, I shall command The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand Serenely in the sunshine as before. Sonnets from the Portuguese. November Fourth I would have but one Delight on earth, so it were wholly mine; One rapture all my soul could fill. Pauline. November Fifth My business is not to remake myself, But make the absolute best of what God made. Bishop Blougram's Apology. November Sixth So you saw yourself as you wished you were, As you might have been, as you cannot be; And bringing your own shortcomings there, You grew content in your poor degree. Andrea del Sarto. [108] WITH THE BROWNINGS y& -jSk vi* v;v ^v >|x ^v x|x >k 5^5 w y^ vj* vi* V4* y;v 7?*?$*" November Seventh 'Tis not what man Does which exalts him, but what man Would do. Saul. November Eighth The truth itself, That's neither man's nor woman's, but just God's ; None else has reason to be proud of truth: Himself will see it sifted, disenthralled, And kept upon the height, and in the light, As far as, and no farther, than 'tis truth. Aurora Leigh. November Ninth God's gift was that man should conceive of truth And yearn to gain it, catching at mistake, As midway help till he reach fact indeed — Yet all the while goes changing what was wrought From falsehood like the truth, to truth itself. A Death in the Desert. November Tenth On earth I confess an itch for the praise of fools — that's Vanity. — Solomon and Balkis. [109] FROM DAY TO DAY ViK >♦* m 7^ >♦> PfK >♦* ■*$< yjK >* V*X VJ* V 4 V >^T V|V VJ* 7F7F November Eleventh The lowest, on true grounds, Is worth more than the highest rule, on false: Aspire to rule, on the true grounds. Colombe's Birthday. November Twelfth That such a cloud should break, such trouble be, Ere a man settle, soul and body, down Into his true place and take rest forever. Lur'ia. November Thirteenth You must have been most miserable To be so cruel. Aurora Leigh. November Fourteenth Let the world's sharpness, like a clasping knife, Shut in upon itself and do no harm In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm, And let us hear no sound of human strife After the click of the shutting. Life to life — I lean upon thee. Dear, without alarm, And feel as safe as guarded by a charm Against the stab of worldlings. Sonnets from the Portuguese. [110] WITH THE BROWNINGS *vk m^ xix x*\ m ■/(< y^ y^K y&j*\ /i\ w* vjy v^c vjy >^ t^tk November Fifteenth Fast this life of mine was dying, Blind already and calm as death, Snowflakes on her bosom lying Scarcely heaving with her breath. Love came by, and having known her In a dream of fabled lands, Gently stooped, and laid upon her Mystic chrism of holy hands ; Drew his smile across her folded Eyelids, as the swallow dips ; Breathed as finely as the cold did Through the locking of her lips. So, when Life looked upward, being Warmed and breathed on from above, What sight could she have for seeing, Evermore . . . but only Love? Life and Love. November Sixteenth The Hate of all Hates, or the Love Of all Loves, in its Valley or Grove, I find them the very warders Each of the other's borders. Pippa Passes. [in] FROM DAY TO DAY >^ >|* V^ jQk )®k 'm^k /QCTFWTf* *(* ^\ X|X jQi y$< m 7^7$? November Seventeenth The face of all the world is changed, I think, Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink, Was caught up into love, and taught the whole Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink, And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear. Sonnets from the Portuguese. November Eighteenth For what are the voices of birds, Aye, and of beasts — but w r ords, our words, Only so much more sweet? Pippa Passes. November Nineteenth Trust me, If there be friends who seek to work our hurt, To ruin and drag down earth's mightiest spirits Even at God's foot, 'twill be from such as love Their zeal will gather most to serve their cause ; And least from those who hate. Paracelsus. [112] WITH THE BROWNINGS November Twentieth The sun was high When first I felt my pulses set themselves For concords ; when the rhythmic turbulence Of blood and brain swept outward upon words, As wind upon the alders, blanching them By turning up their under-natures till They trembled in dilation. Oh, delight And triumph of the poet, — who would say A man's mere "yes," a woman's common "no," A little human hope of that or this, And says the word so that it burns you through With a special revelation, shakes the heart Of all the men and women in the world, As if one came back from the dead and spoke, With eyes too happy, a familiar thing Become divine i' the utterance! while for him The poet, the speaker, he expands with joy; The palpitating angel in his flesh Thrills inly with consenting fellowship To those innumerous spirits who sun thmeselves Outside of time. — Aurora Leigh. November Twenty-first From the beginning Love is whole And true; if sure of naught beside, most sure Of its own truth at least. — Sordello. [113] FROM DAY TO DAY November Twenty-second I think of thee ! — my thoughts do twine and bud About thee, as wild vines, about a tree, Put out broad leaves, and soon there's naught to see Except the straggling green which hides the wood. Sonnets from the Portuguese. November Twenty-third I, tempt a woman, to amuse a man, That two may mock her heart if it succumb? No ! fearing God and standing 'neath His heaven, I would not dare insult a woman so, Were she the meanest woman in the world, And he, I cared to please, ten emperors ! In a Balcony. November Twenty-fourth But I have always had one lode-star ; now As I look back, I see that I have wasted, Or progressed as I have looked toward that star — A need, a trust, a yearning after God, A feeling I have analyzed but late, But it existed. — Pauline. [114] WITH THE BROWNINGS >K v?< W vi* >4* v;v yj* viv ^ y^. w w >K >?< w v^ t^tj^ November Twenty-fifth Oh, not alone when life flows still, do truth And power emerge, but also when strange chance Ruffles its current; in unused conjuncture, When sickness breaks the body — hunger, watch- ing* Excess or languor — oftenest death's approach, Peril, deep joy or woe. — Paracelsus. November Twenty-sixth If such as came for wool, sir, went home shorn, Where is the wrong I did them? Mr. Sludge, "The Medium.' 99 November Twenty-seventh Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear The name I used to run at, when a child, From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled, To glance up in some face that proved me dear With the look of its eyes. I miss the clear Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled Into the music of Heaven's undefiled, Call me no longer. Sonnets from the Portuguese. [115] FROM DAY TO DAY xjx x*x *|>x *ix x+x six y*x vjx?^ A\ x|x y|V V|V y*y V^V?<>|t< November Twenty-eighth Then thou didst come — to be, Beloved, what they seemed. Their shining fronts, Their songs, their splendors (better, yet the same, As river-water hallowed into fonts), Met in thee, and from out thee overcame My soul with satisfaction of all wants: Because God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame. Sonnets from the Portuguese. November Twenty-ninth Work I may dispense With talk about, since work in evidence, Perhaps in history ; who knows or cares ? A Forgiveness. November Thirtieth How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark Autumn evenings come; And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue? With the music of all thy voices, dumb In life's November too! By the Fireside. [116] WITH THE BROWNINGS jQk V|* V|V H* V|* V4V VjV V^C VJiT Vi* >4* V*V V^VVkWJSk 7^7$* DECEMBER December First Which is the weakest thing of all Mine heart can ponder ? The sun, a little cloud can pall With darkness yonder? The cloud, a little wind can move Where'er it listeth? The wind, a little leaf above, Though sere, resisteth? What time that yellow leaf was green, My days were gladder; But now, whatever spring may mean, I must grow sadder. Ah me ! a leaf with sighs can wring My lips asunder? Then is mine heart the weakest thing Itself can ponder. Yet, Heart, when sun and cloud are pined And drop together, And at a blast which is not wind The forests wither, Thou, from the darkening deathly curse To glory breakest, — The Strongest of the universe Guarding the weakest. — The Weakest Thing. [in] FROM DAY TO DAY December Second What's Time? Leave Now for dogs and apes! Man has Forever. A Grammarian's Funeral. December Third A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne From year to year until I saw thy face, And sorrow after sorrow took the place Of all those natural joys as lightly worn As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn By a beating heart at dance-time. Sonnets from the Portuguese. December Fourth Needs there groan a world in anguish just to teach us sympathy. — Two Poets of Croisic December Fifth There is no truer truth obtainable By man, than comes of music. Charles Avison. December Sixth Truth never hurts the teller Fifine at the Fair. [118] WITH THE BROWNINGS **X J***. X*X X|X X|X X*X >*X X|X>K VjV VfX Xfx" V^C VJx" >^C >J«C VJ< VJ«C December Seventh Beloved, dost thou love? or did I see all The glory as I dreamed, and fainted when Too vehement light dilated my ideal, For my soul's eyes? Will that light come again, As now these tears come — falling hot and real? Sonnets from the Portuguese. December Eighth So I soberly laid my last plan To extinguish the man . . . When sudden, how think ye, the end . . . Do you see? Just my vengeance complete, The man sprang to his feet, Stood erect, caught at God's skirts and prayed ! So / was afraid ! — Instans Tyr annus. December Ninth Thus it is with me; Souls alter not, and mine must progress still. And this I knew not when I flung away My youth's chief aims. I ne'er supposed the loss Of what few I retained; for no resource Awaits me — now behold the change of all! Pauline. [119] FROM DAY TO DAY y^ vj< viv viv vi* hv 4v x4x yp- >f? v?< >$< >j< ^s ?p j$t ^>?? December Tenth An' strange it is, that I who could so dream, Should e'er have stooped to aim at aught be- neath — Aught low, or painful. — Pauline. December Eleventh And dost thou lift this house's latch, too poor For hand of thine? and canst thou think and bear To let thy music drop here unaware In folds of golden fulness at my door? Sonnets from the Portuguese. December Twelfth Knowledge by suffering entereth, And life is perfected in death. Vision of Poets. December Thirteenth So free we seem, so fettered fast we are ! Andrea del Sarto. December Fourteenth Love like mine must have return. A SouVs Tragedy. [120] WITH THE BROWNINGS y& >^ w/p v^ w viv y^t yFWWWW W J4* viv y|v 7?? December Fifteenth Youth once gone is gone: Deeds, let escape, are never to be done. Sordello. December Sixteenth Well, when the eve has its last streak' The night has its first star ! — Strafford. December Seventeenth Do I task my faculty highest, to image success ? I but open my eyes, — and perfection, no more and no less, In the kind I imagined, full-fronts me, and God is seen God In the star, in the stone, in the flesh, in the souls and the clod. — Saul. December Eighteenth I thank all who have loved me in their hearts, With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all Who paused a little near the prison-wall To hear my music in its louder parts Ere they went onward, each one to the mart's Or temple's occupation, beyond call. Sonnets from the Portuguese. [121] FROM DAY TO DAY >j< y^i. vjv y^K vj< 7^"?^c y^y^y^ >j* >jv7^r v^c v^c y$i. y^Tf* December Nineteenth God help all poor souls lost in the dark. The Heretic's Tragedy, December Twentieth Because, however sad the truth may seem, Sludge is of all-importance to himself. Mr. Sludge, "The Medium." December Twenty-first Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart! Unlike our uses and our destinies. Our ministering two angels look surprise On one another, as they strike athwart Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art A guest for queens to social pageantries, With gages from a hundred brighter eyes Than tears even can make mine, to play thy part Of chief musician. What hast thou to do With looking from the lattice-lights at me, A poor, tired, wandering singer, singing through The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree? The chrism is on thine head, — on mine, the dew, — And Death must dig the level where these agree. — Sonnets from the Portuguese. [128] WITH THE BROWNINGS >^x x*\ x*x y?K y^: vjv y^.y^.y^y« >iv '^;v vj< v$< v?< w December Twenty-fifth It's wiser being good than bad ; It's safer being meek than fierce: It's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched; That, after Last, returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched; That what began best, can't end worst Nor what God blessed once, prove accursed. Apparent Failure. December Twenty-sixth At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-time, When you set your fancies free, Will they pass to where — by death, fools think, imprisoned — Low he lies who once you loved so, whom you loved so, — Pity me? Oh to love so, be so loved, yet so mistaken ! What had I on earth to do With the slothful, with the mawkish, the un- manly ? Like the aimless, helpless, hopeless, did I drivel — Being — who ? Epilogue. [124] WITH THE BROWNINGS TQk V|* /Qk >|V V|V V|V V|V V^VTK nx x|v X|X y|V x^x x^c y|K 7Jx"?J? December Twenty-seventh One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake. No, at noonday in the bustle of man's work- time Greet the unseen with a cheer ! Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be, "Strive and thrive !" cry "Speed, — fight on, fare ever There as here !" — Epilogue. December Twenty-eighth Oh heart! oh blood that freezes, blood that burns ! Earth's returns For whole centuries of folly, noise, and sin! Shut them in, With their triumphs and their glories and the rest! Love is best. Love Among the Ruins. [125] FROM DAY TO DAY x*x xix x*x xix xjx *?x yf< >?x>K ^ ^x y|x ,jy /|y >;y >$y >y< yj* December Twenty-ninth Earth breaks up, time drops away, In flows Heaven with its new day. Christmas Eve, December Thirtieth So, the year's done with I (Love me forever!) All March begun with, April's endeavor; May-wreaths that bound me June needs must sever; Now snows fall round me, Quenching June's fever — (Love me forever!) Love. December Thirty-first Fear death? — to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote I am nearing the place, The power of the night, the press of the storm, The post of the foe; Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, Yet the strong man must go: [126] W ITH THE BROWNINGS *W 4* 4* ^ ^ 'is x*x s?K 4k*1\ ^ V|x /^ yjy yjy >$* ??s:?^ For the journey is done and the summit at- tained, And the barriers fall, Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained, The reward of it all. I was ever a fighter, so — one fight more, The best and the last! I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forebore, And bade me creep past. No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness, and cold. For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end, And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest ! — Prospice. [127] One copy del. to Cat. Div. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 388 863