the

Browning admitted that in writing this poem had Wordsworth in mind, but insisted that he d not mean it as an exact portrait of Wordsorth. Browning's mature judgment on atter is best expressed in his own words: "I d in my hasty youth presume to use the great d venerated personality of Wordsworth as a rt of painter's model; one from which this or e other particular feature may be selected 4 turned to account; had intended more, ove all, such a boldness as portraying the enman, I should not have talked about 'handIs of silver and bits of ribbon.' These never luenced the change of polities in the great et, whose defection, nevertheless, accom med as it was by a regular face-about of his cial party, was to my juvenile apprehension, leven mature consideration, an event to dere." See also Mrs. Orr's Browning (Life and Iters), I, 191. Compare Shelley's early Sonnet TO WORDSWORTH

Deeds will be done,-while he boasts his quiescence,

Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire:

Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,

One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,

One more devils'-triumph and sorrow for angels,

One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!

Life's night begins: let him never come back to us!

There would be doubt, hesitation and pain,

Forced praise on our part-the glimmer of twilight,

Never glad confident morning again! Best fight on well, for we taught himstrike gallantly.

Menace our heart ere we master his

Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne ! 1845.

HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX 1

I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and

he:

I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;

1 This galloping ballad, which has no historical foundation, was written at sea, off Cape St. Vincent. See Mrs. Orr's Browning, I, 144-45.

Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reek

ing into Cadiz Bay;

Bluish mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;

In the dimmest Northeast distance dawned Gibraltar grand and gray; "Here and here did England help me: how can I help England?"—say,

Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray,

While Jove's planet rises yonder, silent over Africa. 1838. 1845.

TIME'S REVENGES

I'VE a Friend, over the sea;
I like him, but he loves me.
It all grew out of the books I write ;
They find such favor in his sight
That he slaughters you with savage looks
Because you don't admire my books.
He does himself though,-and if some
vein

Were to snap to-night in this heavy brain,

To-morrow month, if I lived to try,
Round should I just turn quietly,
Or out of the bedclothes stretch my hand
Till I found him, come from his foreign
land

To be my nurse in this poor place,
And make my broth and wash my face
And light my fire and, all the while,
Bear with his old good-humored smile
That I told him Better have kept away
Than come and kill me, night and day,
With, worse than fever throbs and
shoots,

The creaking of his clumsy boots."
I am as sure that this he would do,
As that Saint Paul's is striking two.
And I think I rather.. woe is me!

Yes, rather should see him than not

So I might prove myself that sea
Of passion which I needs must be!
Call my thoughts false and my fancies
quaint

And my style infirm and its figures faint,
All the critics say, and more blame yet,
And not one angry word you get.
But, please you, wonder I would put
My cheek beneath that lady's foot
Rather than trample under mine
The laurels of the Florentine,

And you shall see how the devil spends
A fire God gave for other ends!
I tell you, I ride up and down
This garret, crowned with love's best

crown,

And feasted with love's perfect feast,
To think I kill for her, at least,
Body and soul and peace and fame,
Alike youth's end and manhood's aim,
-So is my spirit, as flesh with sin,
Filled full, eaten out and in

With the face of her, the eyes of her,
The lips, the little chin, the stir

Of shadow round her mouth; and she
-I'll tell you-calmly would decree
That I should roast at a slow fire,
If that would compass her desire
And make her one whom they invite
To the famous ball to-morrow night.

There may be heaven; there must be hell;

Meantime, there is our earth herewell! 1845.

Up to the neck in ferns and cress,
Thinking on Metternich our friend,
And Charles's miserable end,

And much beside, two days; the third,
Hunger o'ercame me when I heard
The peasants from the village go
To work among the maize; you know,
With us in Lombardy, they bring
Provisions packed on mules, a string
With little bells that cheer their task,
And casks, and boughs on every cask
To keep the sun's heat from the wine;
These I let pass in jingling line,
And, close on them, dear noisy crew,
The peasants from the village, too;
For at the very rear would troop
Their wives and sisters in a group
To help, I knew. When these had
passed,

I threw my glove to strike the last,
Taking the chance: she did not start,
Much less cry out, but stooped apart,
One instant rapidly glanced round,
And saw me beckon from the ground;
A wild bush grows and hides my crypt:
She picked my glove up while she
stripped

A branch off, then rejoined the rest
With that; my glove lay in her breast.
Then I drew breath: they disappeared:
It was for Italy I feared.

An hour, and she returned alone Exactly where my glove was thrown. Meanwhile came many thoughts; on me Rested the hopes of Italy;

I had devised a certain tale

Which, when 't was told her, could not fail

Persuade a peasant of its truth;
I meant to call a freak of youth
This hiding, and give hopes of pay,
And no temptation to betray.

But when I saw that woman's face,
Its calm simplicity of grace,
Our Italy's own attitude

In which she walked thus far, and stood,
Planting each naked foot so firm,

To crush the snake and spare the worm-
At first sight of her eyes, I said,
"I am that man upon whose head
They fix the price, because I hate
The Austrians over us: the State
Will give you gold-oh, gold so much!—
If you betray me to their clutch,
And be your death, for aught I know,
If once they find you saved their foe.
Now, you must bring me food and drink,
And also paper, pen and ink,

And carry safe what I shall write
To Padua, which you'll reach at night
Before the duomo shuts; go in,
And wait till Tenebræ begin;
Walk to the third confessional,
Between the pillar and the wall,
And kneeling whisper, Whence comes
peace?

Say it a second time, then cease;
And if the voice inside returns,
From Christ and Freedom; what concerns
The cause of Peace?-for answer, slip
My letter where you placed your lip;
Then come back happy we have done
Our mother service-I. the son,
As you the daughter of our land!"

Three mornings more, she took her stand

In the same place, with the same eyes:
I was no surer of sunrise

Than of her coming. We conferred
Of her own prospects, and I heard
She had a lover-stout and tall,
She said then let her eyelids fall,

He could do much "-as if some doubt
Entered her heart,-then, passing out,
"She could not speak for others, who
Had other thoughts; herself she knew: "
And so she brought me drink and food.
After four days, the scouts pursued
Another path; at last arrived
The help my Paduan friends contrived
To furnish me: she brought the news.
For the first time I could not choose
But kiss her hand, and lay my own
Upon her head-This faith was shown
To Italy, our mother; she

Uses my hand and blesses thee."
She followed down to the sea-shore;
I left and never saw her more.

How very long since I have thought Concerning--much less wished foraught

Beside the good of Italy,

For which I live and mean to die!

I never was in love; and since

Charles proved false, what shall now convince

My inmost heart I have a friend?
However, if I pleased to spend
Real wishes on myself-say, three--
I know at least what one should be.
I would grasp Metternich until

I felt his red wet throat distil

In blood through these two hands. And

next

-Nor much for that am I perplexed—

So I might prove my
Of passion which I
Call my thoughts
quaint

And my style infir
All the critics say
And not one angi
But, please you,
My cheek benea
Rather than tra
The laurels of t
And you shall
A fire God gav
I tell you, I ri
This garret,

crown, And feasted

To think I k
Body and so
Alike yout
-So is my
Filled full.
With the f
The lips, t
Of shado
-I'll tel
That I sl

If that v
And ma
To the f

(

South

shed grea

gh, it went

r which bor med afresh from

where learned age

th, the star not yet

learning at my feet!ve, I and my picture.

out, and praise, till life nd.

ot go to heaven, but linger

y earth, earth's every man Friend,

might grew frightful, 't was so ily dear!

ice changed it. Glimpses of -h sights