Would break, what crutch 'gin write my epitaph For pastime in the dusty thoroughfare, III. iv. 187. "Childe" is an old title for a youth of noble birth. There has been much discussion over the question whether the knight's pilgrimage, which is here so vividly and yet so mystically portrayed, is allegorical or not. Doubtless there is no elaborate allegory in it. though there may well be a moral--something like constancy to an ideal, Browning admitted. Above its mates, the head was chopped; the A sudden little river crossed my path bents2 Were jealous else. What made those holes 110 As unexpected as a serpent comes. No sluggish tide congenial to the glooms; This, as it frothed by, might have been a bath For the fiend's glowing hoof-to see the wrath Of its black eddy bespate* with flakes and Not it! I fancied Cuthbert's reddening face 91 The fight must so have seemed in that fell cirque. What penned them there, with all the plain to choose? No footprint leading to that horrid mews, None out of it. Mad brewage set to work Their brains, no doubt, like galley-slaves the Turk * That is, bespit, bespattered: from the archaic bespete. The rather unusual diction employed throughout the poem helps to heighten its grotesque character. Pits for his pastime, Christians against Jews. Burningly it came on me all at once, This was the place! those two hills on the right, And more than that-a furlong on-why, there! What bad use was that engine for, that wheel, 140 Or brake, not wheel-that harrow fit to reel Men's bodies out like silk? with all the air Of Tophet's1 tool, on earth left unaware. Or brought to sharpen its rusty teeth of steel. Then came a bit of stubbed ground, once a wood, Next a marsh, it would seem, and now mere earth Crouched like two bulls locked horn in horn in fight; While to the left, a tall scalped mountain . Dotard, a-dozing at the very nonce,1 After a life spent training for the sight! 180 What in the midst lay but the Tower itself? The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart, Built of brown stone, without a counterpart Desperate and done with: (so a fool finds In the whole world. The tempest 's mocking elf mirth, 5 Not properly the name of a horn, if the word is a corruption of "slogan." It was thus misused by Chatterton frequently, and Browning may have obtained it from that source. * There was a certain Rabbi, Ben Ezra (or Abenezra, or Ibn Ezra), who was a great scholar and theologian of the twelfth century. He was born at Toledo and traveled widely. dwelling at Rome, London, Palestine, and elsewhere. Browning here makes him the mouthpiece of a noble philosophy. Eyes, ears took in their dole, Brain treasured up the whole; Mine be some figured flame which blends, Of power each side, perfection every turn: transcends them all!'' Not for such hopes and fearst Annulling youth's brief years, Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark! Rather I prize the doubt‡ Low kinds exist without, 50 Should not the heart beat once "How good to live and learn''? Not once beat "Praise be thine! I see the whole design, Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark. I, who saw power, see now Love perfect too; Poor vaunt of life indeed, Were man but formed to feed On joy, to solely seek and find and feast: Such feasting ended, then As sure an end to men: Perfect I call thy plan: Thanks that I was a man! 20 Maker, remake, complete,-I trust what thou shalt do!"' For pleasant is this flesh; Irks care1 the crop-full bird?! Frets doubt the Our soul, in its rose-mesh maw-crammed beast? Rejoice we are allied To that which doth provide And not partake, effect and not receive! A spark disturbs our clod; Nearer we hold of God Who gives, than of his tribes that take, I must believe. Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, 30 60 Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go! Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than A brute I might have been, but would not sink And I shall thereupon |