But for loving, why, you would not, Sweet, Though we prayed you, Paid you, brayed you In a mortar--for you could not, Sweet!

VII

So, we leave the sweet face fondly there: Be its beauty Its sole duty!

Let all hope of grace beyond, lie there!

VIII

And while the face lies quiet there, Who shall wonder That I ponder A conclusion? I will try it there.

IX

As,--why must one, for the love foregone, Scout mere liking?

Thunder-striking Earth,--the heaven, we looked above for, gone!

X

Why, with beauty, needs there money be, Love with liking?

Crush the fly-king In his gauze, because no honey-bee?

XI

May not liking be so simple-sweet, If love grew there 'Twould undo there All that breaks the cheek to dimples sweet?

XII

Is the creature too imperfect, say?

Would you mend it And so end it?

Since not all addition perfects aye!

XIII

Or is it of its kind, perhaps, Just perfection-- Whence, rejection Of a grace not to its mind, perhaps?

XIV

Shall we burn up, tread that face at once Into tinder, And so hinder Sparks from kindling all the place at once?

XV

Or else kiss away one's soul on her?

Your love-fancies!

--A sick man sees Truer, when his hot eyes roll on her!

XVI

Thus the craftsman thinks to grace the rose,-- Plucks a mould-flower For his gold flower, Uses fine things that efface the rose:

XVII

Rosy rubies make its cup more rose, Precious metals Ape the petals,-- Last, some old king locks it up, morose!

XVIII

Then how grace a rose? I know a way!

Leave it, rather.

Must you gather?

Smell, kiss, wear it--at last, throw away!

"The Last Ride Together" may be cited as another example of the philosophy which an Englishman, or at any rate a Browning, can evolve from a more or less painful episode.

THE LAST RIDE TOGETHER

I

I said--Then, dearest, since 'tis so, Since now at length my fate I know, Since nothing all my love avails, Since all my life seemed meant for, fails, Since this was written and needs must be-- My whole heart rises up to bless Your name in pride and thankfulness!

Take back the hope you gave,--I claim Only a memory of the same, --And this beside, if you will not blame, Your leave for one more last ride with me.

II

My mistress bent that brow of hers; Those deep dark eyes where pride demurs When pity would be softening through, Fixed me a breathing-while or two With life or death in the balance: right!

The blood replenished me again; My last thought was at least not vain: I and my mistress, side by side Shall be together, breathe and ride, So, one day more am I deified.

Who knows but the world may end to-night?

III

Hush! if you saw some western cloud All billowy-bosomed, over-bowed By many benedictions--sun's-- And moon's and evening-star's at once-- And so, you, looking and loving best, Conscious grew, your pa.s.sion drew Cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too, Down on you, near and yet more near, Till flesh must fade for heaven was here!-- Thus leant she and lingered--joy and fear!

Thus lay she a moment on my breast.

IV

Then we began to ride. My soul Smoothed itself out, a long-cramped scroll Freshening and fluttering in the wind.

Past hopes already lay behind.

What need to strive with a life awry?

Had I said that, had I done this, So might I gain, so might I miss.

Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell!

Where had I been now if the worst befell?

And here we are riding, she and I.

V

Fail I alone, in words and deeds?

Why, all men strive and who succeeds?

We rode; it seemed my spirit flew, Saw other regions, cities new, As the world rushed by on either side.

I thought,--All labor, yet no less Bear up beneath their unsuccess.

Look at the end of work, contrast The petty done, the undone vast, This present of theirs with the hopeful past!

I hoped she would love me; here we ride.