Men and Women (Browning)/Volume 1/A Lovers' Quarrel
A LOVERS' QUARREL.
1.Oh, what a dawn of day!How the March sun feels like May!All is blue againAfter last night's rain, And the South dries the hawthorn-spray. Only, my Love's away! I'd as lief that the blue were grey.
2.Runnels, which rillets swell, Must be dancing down the dell With a foamy headOn the beryl bed Paven smooth as a hermit's cell; Each with a tale to tell, Could my Love but attend as well.
3.Dearest, three months ago!When we lived blocked-up with snow,—When the wind would edgeIn and in his wedge, In, as far as the point could go— Not to our ingle, though, Where we loved each the other so!
4.Laughs with so little cause! We devised games out of straws. We would try and traceOne another's face In the ash, as an artist draws; Free on each other's flaws, How we chattered like two church daws!
5.What's in the "Times"?—a scold At the emperor deep and cold; He has taken a brideTo his gruesome side, That's as fair as himself is bold:There they sit ermine-stoled, And she powders her hair with gold.
6.Fancy the Pampas' sheen! Miles and miles of gold and green Where the sun-flowers blowIn a solid glow, And to break now and then the screen—Black neck and eyeballs keen, Up a wild horse leaps between!
7.Try, will our table turn?Lay your hands there light, and yearnTill the yearning slipsThro' the finger tips In a fire which a few discern,And a very few feel burn, And the rest, they may live and learn!
8.Then we would up and pace, For a change, about the place, Each with arm o'er neck. 'Tis our quarter-deck, We are seamen in woeful case. Help in the ocean-space! Or, if no help, we'll embrace.
9.See, how she looks now, drest In a sledging-cap and vest.'Tis a huge fur cloak—Like a reindeer's yoke Falls the lappet along the breast:Sleeves for her arms to rest, Or to hang, as my Love likes best.
10.Teach me to flirt a fanAs the Spanish ladies can, Or I tint your lip With a burnt stick's tip And you turn into such a man!Just the two spots that spanHalf the bill of the young male swan.
11.Dearest, three months agoWhen the mesmeriser SnowWith his hand's first sweep Put the earth to sleep,'Twas a time when the heart could show All—how was earth to know, 'Neath the mute hand's to-and-fro!
12.Dearest, three months ago When, we loved each other so, Lived and loved the sameTill an evening came When a shaft from the Devil's bow Pierced to our ingle-glow, And the friends were friend and foe!
13.Not from the heart beneath— 'Twas a bubble born of breath, Neither sneer nor vaunt, Nor reproach nor taunt. See a word, how it severeth!Oh, power of life and deathIn the tongue, as the Preacher saith!
14.Woman, and will you castFor a word, quite off at last,Me, your own, your you,— Since, as Truth is true, I was you all the happy past— Me do you leave aghast With the memories we amassed?
15.Love, if you knew the lightThat your soul casts in my sight, How I look to you For the pure and true, And the beauteous and the right,— Bear with a moment's spite When a mere mote threats the white!
16.What of a hasty word?Is the fleshly heart not stirred By a worm's pin-prick Where its roots are quick? See the eye, by a fly's-foot blurred—Ear, when a straw is heardScratch the brain's coat of curd!
17.Foul be the world or fair,More or less, how can I care?'Tis the world the sameFor my praise or blame,And endurance is easy there.Wrong in the one thing rare—Oh, it is hard to bear!
18.Here's the spring back or close,When the almond-blossom blows;We shall have the wordIn a minor third There is none but the cuckoo knows—Heaps of the guelder-rose!I must bear with it, I suppose.
19.Could but November come,Were the noisy birds struck dumbAt the warning slashOf his driver's-lash—I would laugh like the valiant ThumbFacing the castle glumAnd the giant's fee-faw-fum!
20.Then, were the world well striptOf the gear wherein equippedWe can stand apart,Heart dispense with heart In the sun, with the flowers unnipped,—Oh, the world's hangings ripped,We were both in a bare-walled crypt!
21.Each in the crypt would cry"But one freezes here! and why? When a heart, as chill,At my own would thrillBack to life, and its fires out-fly?Heart, shall we live or die?The rest, . . . settle by and by!"
22.So, she'd efface the score,And forgive me as before.Just at twelve o'clockI shall hear her knock In the worst of a storm's uproar—I shall pull her through the door—I shall have her for evermore!