by Robert Browning
| 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! |
No comments:
Post a Comment