Natural Magic

Robert Browning

1812 to 1889

Poem Image
Track 1

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Behold you enshrined in these blooms of your bringing,
This life was as blank as that room;
All I can sing is—I feel it!
Wide opens the entrance: where's cold, now, where's gloom?
The room was as bare as your hand.
A fairy-tale! Only—I feel it!
No May to sow seed here, no June to reveal it,
Impossible! Only—I saw it!
All I can say is—I saw it!
From the head to the foot of her—well, quite as bare!
These fruits of your bearing—nay, birds of your winging!
I locked in the swarth little lady,—I swear,
I let you pass in here. Precaution, indeed?
No Nautch shall cheat me," said I, "taking my stand
Walls, ceiling, and floor,—not a chance for a weed!
At this bolt which I draw!" And this bolt—I withdraw it,
And there laughs the lady, not bare, but embowered
With—who knows what verdure, o'erfruited, o'erflowered?

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