Robert Browning

Here you will find the Poem In A Year of poet Robert Browning

In A Year

Never any more,
 While I live,
Need I hope to see his face
 As before.
Once his love grown chill,
 Mine may strive:
Bitterly we re-embrace,
 Single still.


Was it something said,
 Something done,
Vexed him? was it touch of hand,
 Turn of head?
Strange! that very way
 Love begun:
I as little understand
 Love's decay.


When I sewed or drew,
 I recall
How he looked as if I sung,
 ---Sweetly too.
If I spoke a word,
 First of all
Up his cheek the colour sprang,
 Then he heard.


Sitting by my side,
 At my feet,
So he breathed but air I breathed,
I, too, at love's brim
 Touched the sweet:
I would die if death bequeathed
 Sweet to him.


``Speak, I love thee best!''
 He exclaimed:
``Let thy love my own foretell!''
 I confessed:
``Clasp my heart on thine
 ``Now unblamed,
``Since upon thy soul as well
 ``Hangeth mine!''


Was it wrong to own,
 Being truth?
Why should all the giving prove
 His alone?
I had wealth and ease,
 Beauty, youth:
Since my lover gave me love,
 I gave these.


That was all I meant,
 ---To be just,
And the passion I had raised,
 To content.
Since he chose to change
 Gold for dust,
If I gave him what he praised
 Was it strange?


Would he loved me yet,
 On and on,
While I found some way undreamed
 ---Paid my debt!
Gave more life and more,
 Till, all gone,
He should smile ``She never seemed
 ``Mine before.


``What, she felt the while,
 ``Must I think?
``Love's so different with us men!''
He should smile:
 ``Dying for my sake---
``White and pink!
 ``Can't we touch these bubbles then
``But they break?''


Dear, the pang is brief,
 Do thy part,
Have thy pleasure! How perplexed
 Grows belief!
Well, this cold clay clod
 Was man's heart:
Crumble it, and what comes next?
 Is it God?