Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Robert Browning. 18121889727. The Last Ride together
I SAID—Then, dearest, since ’tis so, | |
Since now at length my fate I know, | |
Since nothing all my love avails, | |
Since all, my life seem’d meant for, fails, | |
Since this was written and needs must be— | 5 |
My whole heart rises up to bless | |
Your name in pride and thankfulness! | |
Take back the hope you gave,—I claim | |
Only a memory of the same, | |
—And this beside, if you will not blame; | 10 |
Your leave for one more last ride with me. | |
My mistress bent that brow of hers, | |
Those deep dark eyes where pride demurs | |
When pity would be softening through, | |
Fix’d me a breathing-while or two | 15 |
With life or death in the balance: right! | |
The blood replenish’d me again; | |
My last thought was at least not vain: | |
I and my mistress, side by side | |
Shall be together, breathe and ride, | 20 |
So, one day more am I deified. | |
Who knows but the world may end to-night? | |
Hush! if you saw some western cloud | |
All billowy-bosom’d, over-bow’d | |
By many benedictions—sun’s | 25 |
And moon’s and evening-star’s at once— | |
And so, you, looking and loving best, | |
Conscious grew, your passion drew | |
Cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too, | |
Down on you, near and yet more near, | 30 |
Till flesh must fade for heaven was here!— | |
Thus leant she and linger’d—joy and fear! | |
Thus lay she a moment on my breast. | |
Then we began to ride. My soul | |
Smooth’d itself out, a long-cramp’d scroll | 35 |
Freshening and fluttering in the wind. | |
Past hopes already lay behind. | |
What need to strive with a life awry? | |
Had I said that, had I done this, | |
So might I gain, so might I miss. | 40 |
Might she have loved me? just as well | |
She might have hated, who can tell! | |
Where had I been now if the worst befell? | |
And here we are riding, she and I. | |
Fail I alone, in words and deeds? | 45 |
Why, all men strive and who succeeds? | |
We rode; it seem’d my spirit flew, | |
Saw other regions, cities new, | |
As the world rush’d by on either side. | |
I thought,—All labour, yet no less | 50 |
Bear up beneath their unsuccess. | |
Look at the end of work, contrast | |
The petty done, the undone vast, | |
This present of theirs with the hopeful past! | |
I hoped she would love me; here we ride. | 55 |
What hand and brain went ever pair’d? | |
What heart alike conceived and dared? | |
What act proved all its thought had been? | |
What will but felt the fleshly screen? | |
We ride and I see her bosom heave. | 60 |
There ‘s many a crown for who can reach. | |
Ten lines, a statesman’s life in each! | |
The flag stuck on a heap of bones, | |
A soldier’s doing! what atones? | |
They scratch his name on the Abbey-stones. | 65 |
My riding is better, by their leave. | |
What does it all mean, poet? Well, | |
Your brains beat into rhythm, you tell | |
What we felt only; you express’d | |
You hold things beautiful the best, | 70 |
And pace them in rhyme so, side by side. | |
‘Tis something, nay ’tis much: but then, | |
Have you yourself what ‘s best for men? | |
Are you—poor, sick, old ere your time— | |
Nearer one whit your own sublime | 75 |
Than we who never have turn’d a rhyme? | |
Sing, riding ‘s a joy! For me, I ride. | |
And you, great sculptor—so, you gave | |
A score of years to Art, her slave, | |
And that ‘s your Venus, whence we turn | 80 |
To yonder girl that fords the burn! | |
You acquiesce, and shall I repine? | |
What, man of music, you grown gray | |
With notes and nothing else to say, | |
Is this your sole praise from a friend, | 85 |
‘Greatly his opera’s strains intend, | |
But in music we know how fashions end!’ | |
I gave my youth: but we ride, in fine. | |
Who knows what ‘s fit for us? Had fate | |
Proposed bliss here should sublimate | 90 |
My being—had I sign’d the bond— | |
Still one must lead some life beyond, | |
Have a bliss to die with, dim-descried. | |
This foot once planted on the goal, | |
This glory-garland round my soul, | 95 |
Could I descry such? Try and test! | |
I sink back shuddering from the quest. | |
Earth being so good, would heaven seem best? | |
Now, heaven and she are beyond this ride. | |
And yet—she has not spoke so long! | 100 |
What if heaven be that, fair and strong | |
At life’s best, with our eyes upturn’d | |
Whither life’s flower is first discern’d, | |
We, fix’d so, ever should so abide? | |
What if we still ride on, we two | 105 |
With life for ever old yet new, | |
Changed not in kind but in degree, | |
The instant made eternity,— | |
And heaven just prove that I and she | |
Ride, ride together, for ever ride? | 110 |