Love in a Life – Robert Browning (1812-1889)
Room after room,
I hunt the house through
We inhabit together.
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her,
Next time, herself! -not the trouble behind her
Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume!
As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew, -
Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather.
Yet the day wears,
And door succeeds door;
I try the fresh fortune -
Range the wide house from the wing to the centre.
Still the same chance! she goes out as I enter.
Spend my whole day in the quest, -who cares?
But 'tis twilight, you see, -with such suites to explore,
Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!
What a lovely poem. This is from my first seminar. And as I'm struggling to write 800 words of UTTER SHITE, I thought I'd share this with you.
BUT.... What I don't understand is, in the poem Browning blatantly just wants to nail his wife.
He's HUNTING HER DOWN. Chasing her through the house.
Cool. I'm down with that. Kinky bastard!
BUT AFTER DOING MY RESEARCH INTO HIS LIFE, I'm reading his wife's an invalid.
No seriously, she must be a nifty little mover in that wheelchair of hers.