'Waring' by Robert Browning
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[Mr. Alfred Domett, C.M.G., author of
Ranolf and Amohia, ``full of descriptions of
New Zealand scenery.]
I.
I.
What's become of Waring
Since he gave us all the slip,
Chose land-travel or seafaring,
Boots and chest or staff and scrip,
Rather than pace up and down
Any longer London town?
II.
Who'd have guessed it from his lip
Or his brow's accustomed bearing,
On the night he thus took ship
Or started landward?---little caring
For us, it seems, who supped together
(Friends of his too, I remember)
And walked home thro' the merry weather,
The snowiest in all December.
I left his arm that night myself
For what's-his-name's, the new prose-poet
Who wrote the book there, on the shelf---
How, forsooth, was I to know it
If Waring meant to glide away
Like a ghost at break of day?
Never looked he half so gay!
III.
He was prouder than the devil:
How he must have cursed our revel!
Ay and many other meetings,
Indoor visits, outdoor greetings,
As up and down he paced this London,
With no work done, but great works undone,
Where scarce twenty knew his name.
Why not, then, have earlier spoken,
Written, bustled? Who's to blame
If your silence kept unbroken?
``True, but there were sundry jottings,
``Stray-leaves, fragments, blurts and blottings,
``Certain fixst steps were achieved
``Already which''---(is that your meaning?)
``Had well borne out whoe'er believed
``In more to come!'' But who goes gleaning
Hedgeside chance-glades, while full-sheaved
Stand cornfields by him? Pride, o'erweening
Pride alone, puts forth such claims
O'er the day's distinguished names.
IV.
Meantime, how much I loved him,
I find out now I've lost him.
I who cared not if I moved him,
Who could so carelessly accost him,
Henceforth never shall get free
Of his ghostly company,
His eyes that just a little wink
As deep I go into the merit
Of this and that distinguished spirit---
His cheeks' raised colour, soon to sink,
As long I dwell on some stupendous
And tremendous (Heaven defend us!)
Monstr'-inform'-ingens-horrend-ous
Demoniaco-seraphic
Penman's latest piece of graphic.
Nay, my very wrist grows warm
With his dragging weight of arm.
E'en so, swimmingly appears,
Through one's after-supper musings,
Some lost lady of old years
With her beauteous vain endeavour
And goodness unrepaid as ever;
The face, accustomed to refusings,
We, puppies that we were ... Oh never
Surely, nice of conscience, scrupled
Being aught like false, forsooth, to?
Telling aught but honest truth to?
What a sin, had we centupled
Its possessor's grace and sweetness
No! she heard in its completeness
Truth, for truth's a weighty matter,
And truth, at issue, we can't flatter!
Well, 'tis done with; she's exempt
From damning us thro' such a sally;
And so she glides, as down a valley,
Taking up with her contempt,
Past our reach; and in, the flowers
Shut her unregarded hours.
V.
Oh, could I have him back once more,
This Waring, but one half-day more!
Back, with the quiet face of yore,
So hungry for acknowledgment
Like mine! I'd fool him to his bent.
Feed, should not he, to heart's content?
I'd say, ``to only have conceived,
``Planned your great works, apart from progress,
``Surpasses little works achieved!''
I'd lie so, I should be believed.
I'd make such havoc of the claims
Of the day's distinguished names
To feast him with, as feasts an ogress
Her feverish sharp-toothed gold-crowned child!
Or as one feasts a creature rarely
Captured here, unreconciled
To capture; and completely gives
its pettish humours license, barely
Requiring that it lives.
VI.
Ichabod, Ichabod,
The glory is departed!
Travels Waring East away?
Who, of knowledge, by hearsay,
Reports a man upstarted
Somewhere as a god,
Hordes grown European-hearted,
Millions of the wild made tame
On a sudden at his fame?
In Vishnu-land what Avatar?
Or who in Moscow, toward the Czar,
With the demurest of footfalls
Over the Kremlin's pavement bright
With serpentine and syenite,*1
Steps, with five other Generals
That simultaneously take snuff,
For each to have pretext enough
And kerchiefwise unfold his sash
Which, softness' self, is yet the stuff
To hold fast where a steel chain snaps,
And leave the grand white neck no gash?
Waring in Moscow, to those rough
Cold northern natures born perhaps,
Like the lambwhite maiden dear
From the circle of mute kings
Unable to repress the tear,
Each as his sceptre down he flings,
To Dian's fane at Taurica,
Where now a captive priestess, she alway
Mingles her tender grave Hellenic speech
With theirs, tuned to the hailstone-beaten beach
As pours some pigeon, from the myrrhy lands
Rapt by the whirlblast to fierce Scythian strands
Where breed the swallows, her melodious cry
Amid their barbarous twitter!
In Russia? Never! Spain were fitter!
Ay, most likely 'tis in Spain
That we and Waring meet again
Now, while he turns down that cool narrow lane
Into the blackness, out of grave Madrid
All fire and shine, abrupt as when there's slid
Its stiff gold blazing pall
From some black coffin-lid.
Or, best of all,
I love to think
The leaving us was just a feint;
Back here to London did he slink,
And now works on without a wink
Of sleep, and we are on the brink
Of something great in fresco-pain:
Some garret's ceiling, walls and floor,
Up and down and o'er and o'er
He splashes, as none splashed before
Since great Caldera Polidore.*2
Or Music means this land of ours
Some favour yet, to pity won
By Purcell from his Rosy Bowers,---
``Give me my so-long promised son,
``Let Waring end what I begun!''
Then down he creeps and out he steals
Only when the night conceals
His face; in Kent 'tis cherry-time,
Or hops are picking: or at prime
Of March he wanders as, too happy,
Years ago when he was young,
Some mild eve when woods grew sappy
And the early moths had sprung
To life from many a trembling sheath
Woven the warm boughs beneath;
While small birds said to themselves
What should soon be actual song,
And young gnats, by tens and twelves,
Made as if they were the throng
That crowd around and carry aloft
The sound they have nursed, so sweet and pure,
Out of a myriad noises soft,
Into a tone that can endure
Amid the noise of a July noon
When all God's creatures crave their boon,
All at once and all in tune,
And get it, happy as Waring then,
Having first within his ken
What a man might do with men:
And far too glad, in the even-glow,
To mix with the world he meant to take
Into his hand, he told you, so---
And out of it his world to make,
To contract and to expand
As he shut or oped his hand.
Oh Waring, what's to really be?
A clear stage and a crowd to see!
Some Garrick, say, out shall not he
The heart of Hamlet's mystery pluck?
Or, where most unclean beasts are rife,
Some Junius---am I right?---shall tuck
His sleeve, and forth with flaying-knife!
Some Chatterton shall have the luck
Of calling Rowley into life!
Some one shall somehow run a muck
With this old world for want of strife
Sound asleep. Contrive, contrive
To rouse us, Waring! Who's alive?
Our men scarce seem in earnest now.
Distinguished names!---but 'tis, somehow,
As if they played at being names
Still more distinguished, like the games
Of children. Turn our sport to earnest
With a visage of the sternest!
Bring the real times back, confessed
Still better than our very best!
II.
I.
``When I last saw Waring ...''
(How all turned to him who spoke!
You saw Waring? Truth or joke?
In land-travel or sea-faring?)
II.
``We were sailing by Triest
``Where a day or two we harboured:
``A sunset was in the West,
``When, looking over the vessel's side,
``One of our company espied
``A sudden speck to larboard.
``And as a sea-duck flies and swims
``At once, so came the light craft up,
``With its sole lateen sail that trims
``And turns (the water round its rims
``Dancing, as round a sinking cup)
``And by us like a fish it curled,
``And drew itself up close beside,
``Its great sail on the instant furled,
``And o'er its thwarts a shrill voice cried,
``(A neck as bronzed as a Lascar's)
`` `Buy wine of us, you English Brig?
`` `Or fruit, tobacco and cigars?
`` `A pilot for you to Triest?
`` `Without one, look you ne'er so big,
`` `They'll never let you up the bay!
`` `We natives should know best.'
``I turned, and `just those fellows' way,'
``Our captain said, `The 'long-shore thieves
`` `Are laughing at us in their sleeves.'
III.
``In truth, the boy leaned laughing back;
``And one, half-hidden by his side
``Under the furled sail, soon I spied,
``With great grass hat and kerchief black,
``Who looked up with his kingly throat,
``Said somewhat, while the other shook
``His hair back from his eyes to look
``Their longest at us; then the boat,
``I know not how, turned sharply round,
``Laying her whole side on the sea
``As a leaping fish does; from the lee
``Into the weather, cut somehow
``Her sparkling path beneath our bow
``And so went off, as with a bound,
``Into the rosy and golden half
``O' the sky, to overtake the sun
``And reach the shore, like the sea-calf
``Its singing cave; yet I caught one
``Glance ere away the boat quite passed,
``And neither time nor toil could mar
``Those features: so I saw the last
``Of Waring!''---You? Oh, never star
Was lost here but it rose afar!
Look East, where whole new thousands are!
In Vishnu-land what Avatar?
*1 Egyptian granite.
*2 Surnamed da Caravaggio. A pupil of Raphael.
Editor 1 Interpretation
Waring: A Masterpiece by Robert Browning
Have you ever come across a poem that leaves you feeling perplexed and intrigued at the same time? Waring, a poem written by Robert Browning, is one such masterpiece that leaves the reader with an endless array of emotions and thoughts. This poem, which was first published in 1841, is a masterpiece that is still relevant to modern times. In this literary criticism and interpretation, we will go through the themes, literary devices, and the overall structure of the poem to understand its meaning and significance.
The Themes of Waring
The first theme that stands out in Waring is the quest for identity. This theme is evident from the onset of the poem as Browning introduces us to the protagonist, who is in search of his true identity. The protagonist is introduced as "an unknown man" who is searching for his real name. This quest for identity is not only physical but also psychological. The protagonist is in search of a sense of belonging, and he feels lost and out of place in the world.
The second theme that is evident in the poem is the power of language. Language is used as a tool to convey emotions and to express oneself. In the poem, the protagonist uses language to search for his identity. He believes that there is power in names and that his true identity lies in his name.
The third theme that is evident in the poem is the search for love. The protagonist is searching for love, but he is unable to find it. He looks for love in material things, but he is unable to find it. He is in search of a true connection with another human being, but he is unable to find it.
Literary Devices in Waring
One of the literary devices that Browning uses in the poem is ambiguity. The protagonist's identity is left ambiguous, and the reader is left to interpret the poem according to their understanding. The use of ambiguity is used to convey the idea that identity is not fixed, but it is in a constant state of flux.
Another literary device that Browning uses in the poem is repetition. The protagonist repeats the phrase "my name is Waring" throughout the poem, emphasizing the importance of his name in his quest for identity. The repetition also conveys the idea that the protagonist is uncertain of his identity, and he is trying to convince himself that he is Waring.
The use of imagery is another literary device that Browning uses in the poem. The imagery in the poem is used to convey the protagonist's feelings of isolation and confusion. For example, the protagonist describes himself as a "lost bird" and a "wanderer." These images convey the protagonist's sense of disorientation and lack of direction.
Structure of Waring
The structure of Waring is essential in conveying the poem's meaning. The poem is written in a dramatic monologue, which allows the reader to see the world through the protagonist's eyes. The use of the first person point of view enhances the reader's understanding of the protagonist's quest for identity.
The poem is also divided into stanzas, each with a different tone and mood. The first stanza sets the tone for the rest of the poem, introducing the protagonist and his quest for identity. The second stanza introduces the theme of the power of language, while the third stanza introduces the theme of the search for love. The final stanza brings the poem to a close, with the protagonist still in search of his true identity.
Conclusion
Waring, a poem by Robert Browning, is a masterpiece that explores the themes of identity, the power of language, and the search for love. The use of literary devices such as ambiguity, repetition, and imagery enhances the poem's meaning and conveys the protagonist's feelings of confusion and isolation. The structure of the poem, written in a dramatic monologue, allows the reader to see the world through the protagonist's eyes. Overall, Waring is a timeless masterpiece that is still relevant to modern times, and it is a must-read for any poetry enthusiast.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Poetry is a powerful tool that has the ability to evoke emotions, paint vivid pictures, and convey complex ideas. Robert Browning's "Poetry Waring" is a classic example of the power of poetry. This poem is a celebration of the art of poetry and the impact it can have on our lives. In this analysis, we will explore the themes, structure, and literary devices used in "Poetry Waring."
The poem is structured as a dramatic monologue, with the speaker addressing an audience. The speaker is a poet, and he is passionate about his craft. He begins by declaring that poetry is the most important thing in the world. He says that it is more important than politics, science, and even religion. This is a bold statement, but the speaker is convinced that poetry has the power to change the world.
The first stanza sets the tone for the rest of the poem. The speaker declares that poetry is the "one thing needful." He says that without poetry, life would be dull and meaningless. He compares poetry to a "sunbeam," saying that it can light up even the darkest corners of our lives. This metaphor is powerful because it suggests that poetry has the ability to bring hope and joy to even the most difficult situations.
In the second stanza, the speaker continues to extol the virtues of poetry. He says that poetry can help us understand the world around us. He compares it to a "mirror," saying that it reflects the beauty and complexity of life. He also says that poetry can help us understand ourselves. He says that it can reveal our deepest thoughts and emotions, and help us make sense of our lives.
The third stanza is where the poem really takes off. The speaker declares that poetry is not just a form of entertainment or a way to pass the time. He says that it is a "weapon" that can be used to fight against injustice and oppression. He says that poetry can inspire people to take action and make a difference in the world. This is a powerful message, and it shows that the speaker sees poetry as a force for good in the world.
The fourth stanza is a bit more personal. The speaker talks about his own experience with poetry. He says that he has been writing poetry since he was a child, and that it has always been a source of joy and inspiration for him. He also says that he has faced criticism and rejection, but that he has never given up on his passion for poetry. This is a powerful message for anyone who has ever faced rejection or criticism in their own creative pursuits.
The fifth stanza is a bit more abstract. The speaker talks about the power of imagination and how it can be used to create new worlds and new possibilities. He says that poetry is a way to tap into the power of imagination and create something new and beautiful. This is a powerful message, and it shows that the speaker sees poetry as a way to push the boundaries of what is possible.
The final stanza is a bit more philosophical. The speaker talks about the nature of reality and how poetry can help us understand it. He says that reality is not just what we see and touch, but also what we imagine and dream. He says that poetry can help us see the world in a new way, and that it can help us understand the deeper truths of existence. This is a powerful message, and it shows that the speaker sees poetry as a way to explore the mysteries of life.
In terms of literary devices, "Poetry Waring" is full of them. The poem is written in iambic pentameter, which gives it a rhythmic and musical quality. The speaker also uses a variety of metaphors and similes to convey his message. For example, he compares poetry to a "sunbeam," a "mirror," and a "weapon." These metaphors are powerful because they help us understand the different ways in which poetry can impact our lives.
The poem also uses repetition to emphasize certain points. For example, the phrase "one thing needful" is repeated several times throughout the poem. This repetition helps to reinforce the idea that poetry is the most important thing in the world.
In conclusion, "Poetry Waring" is a powerful celebration of the art of poetry. The poem is full of passion, energy, and excitement. It shows us that poetry is not just a form of entertainment, but a powerful force for good in the world. The poem is also full of literary devices, which help to convey its message in a powerful and memorable way. Overall, "Poetry Waring" is a classic example of the power of poetry to inspire, enlighten, and transform our lives.
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