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Evelyn Hope

By Robert Browning

Topics: classic

I.     Beautiful Evelyn Hope is dead!     Sit and watch by her side an hour.     That is her book-shelf, this her bed;     She plucked that piece of geranium-flower,     Beginning to die too, in the glass;     Little has yet been changed, I think     The shutters are shut, no light may pass     Save two long rays through the hinges chink. II.     Sixteen years old when she died!     Perhaps she had scarcely heard my name     It was not her time to love; beside,     Her life had many a hope and aim,     Duties enough and little cares,     And now was quiet, now astir,     Till Gods hand beckoned unawares,     And the sweet white brow is all of her. III.     Is it too late then, Evelyn Hope?     What, your soul was pure and true,     The good stars met in your horoscope,     Made you of spirit, fire and dew     And, just because I was thrice as old     And our paths in the world diverged so wide,     Each was naught to each, must I be told?     We were fellow mortals, naught beside? IV.     No, indeed! for God above     Is great to grant, as mighty to make,     And creates the love to reward the love:     I claim you still, for my own loves sake!     Delayed it may be for more lives yet,     Through worlds I shall traverse, not a few:     Much is to learn, much to forget     Ere the time be come for taking you. V.     But the time will come, at last it will,     When, Evelyn Hope, what meant (I shall say)     In the lower earth, in the years long still,     That body and soul so pure and gay?     Why your hair was amber, I shall divine,     And your mouth of your own geraniums red     And what you would do with me, in fine,     In the new life come in the old lifes stead. VI.     I have lived (I shall say) so much since then,     Given up myself so many times,     Gained me the gains of various men,     Ransacked the ages, spoiled the climes;     Yet one thing, one, in my souls full scope,     Either I missed or itself missed me     And I want and find you, Evelyn Hope!     What is the issue? Let us see! VII.     I loved you, Evelyn, all the while!     My heart seemed full as it could hold     There was place and to spare for the frank young smile,     And the red young mouth, and the hairs young gold.     So, hush, I will give you this leaf to keep     See, I shut it inside the sweet cold hand,     There, that is our secret! go to sleep;     You will wake, and remember, and understand.

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"I...." by Robert Browning

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Robert Browning

About Robert Browning

Robert Browning (1812–1889) was a major English Victorian poet who perfected the dramatic monologue form. His poems—including "My Last Duchess," "The Pied Piper of Hamelin," and "Fra Lippo Lippi"—explore psychology, morality, and art through the voices of vividly drawn characters.

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