Porphyria's Lover
By Robert Browning
(1812-1889)
The rain set early in tonight.
The sullen wind was soon awake.
It tore the elm-tops down for spite
and it did its worst to vex the lake.
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight.
She shut the cold out and the storm
and kneeled and made the cheerless grate.
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm.
Which done, she rose and from her from
and laid her soiled gloves by, untied
her hat and let the damp hair fall.
And last she sat down by my side
and called me.
When no voice replied,
she put my arm about her waist,
and all her yellow hair displaced,
and, stooping, made my cheek lie there
and spread, o'er all, her yellow hair.
Murmuring how she loved me-she
too weak for all her heart's endeavor
to set its struggling passion free
from pride and vainer ties dissever.
And give herself to me forever.
But passion sometimes would prevail.
Nor could tonight's gay feast restrain
a sudden thought of one so pale.
For love of her and all in vain.
So she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes.
Happy and proud at last I knew.
Porphyria worshiped me; surprise
Made my heart swell and still it grew.
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine fair.
Perfectly pure and good: I found
a thing to do and all her hair
in one long yellow string I wound.
Three times her little throat around
and strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that hold a bee
I warily opened her lids; again
laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened next the tress
about her neck, her cheek once more.
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss
I propped her head up as before.
Only this time my shoulder bore
her head, which droops upon it still.
The smiling rosy little head.
So glad it has its utmost will.
That all it scorned at once is fled.
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria's love; she guessed not how
her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now.
And all night long we have not stirred.
And yet God has not said a word!
