File:The boys' Browning - poems of action and incident compiled for the use of young people (1899) (14781652785).jpg

Identifier: boysbrowningpoem01brow (find matches)
Title: The boys' Browning : poems of action and incident compiled for the use of young people
Year: 1899 (1890s)
Authors: Browning, Robert, 1812-1889
Subjects:
Publisher: Boston : D. Estes & Co.
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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s and ladies alike turned with loathingFrom such a proved wolf in sheeps clothing. Not so, I; for I caught an expression In her brows undisturbed self-possession Amid the Courts scoffing and merriment,— As if from no pleasing experiment She rose, yet of pain not much heedful So long as the process was needful, — As if she had tried in a crucible. To what speeches like gold were reducible. And, finding the finest prove copper, Felt the smoke in her face was but proper; To know what she had 7iot to trust to, Was worth all the ashes and dust too. She went out mid hooting and laughter; Clement Marot stayed ; I followed after. And asked, as a grace, what it all meant ? If she wished not the rash deeds recaFment? For I — so I spoke — am a poet: Human nature, — behooves that I know it! She told me, Too long had I heardOf the deed proved alone by the word:For my love — what De Lorge would not dare!With my scorn — what De Lorge could com-pare!And the endless descriptions of de^th
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AND FULL TX THE FACE OF FrS OWNKK FHXC THE GLOVE. THE GLOVE. 95 He would brave when my lip formed a breath, I must reckon as braved, or, of course. Doubt his word — and moreover, perforce. For such gifts as no lady could spurn. Must offer my love in return. When I looked on your lion, it brought All the dangers at once to my thought. Encountered by all sorts of men. Before he was lodged in his den,— From the poor slave whose club or bare hands Dug the trap, set the snare on the sands, With no King and no Court to applaud, By no shame, should he shrink, overawed. Yet to capture the creature made shift. That his rude boys might laugh at the gift, — To the page who last leaped oer the fence Of the pit, on no greater pretence Than to get back the bonnet he dropped. Lest his pay for a week should be stopped. So, wiser I judged it to make One trial what death for my sake Really meant, while the power was yet mine. Than to wait until time should define Such a phrase not so simply as I,

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