Robert Browning & Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Today, I recommend another great Robert -

Robert Browning, the poet (1812-1889)

Life is stocked with germs of torpid life;

but may I never wake

Those of mine whose resurrection could not be without earthquake!

Rest all such, unraised forever! Be this, sad yet sweet, the sole

Memory evoked from slumber! Least part this: then what the whole?

THE TWO POETS OF CROISIC
Written immediately after La Saisiaz, being dated January 15, 1878
-------------------------

"Somewhere, below, above, Shall a day dawn--this I know--

When Power, which vainly strove My weakness to o'erthrow, Shall triumph.
I breathe, I move,
I truly am, at last! For a veil is rent between Me and the truth which passed Fitful, half-guessed, half-seen,Grasped at--not gained, held fast"
"Reverie," Asolando, lines 16-25

--------------------------

And how I can describe a great devotion and, of course, a great love that he gave to his wife.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, the poet (1806-1861)

"Why tell of age when it’s just an appearance…
When we are all young in heart and soul?"
'til when? ‘til eternity. Where am I, but with you, and what, but yours"

-------------------------

Life, struck sharp on death,Makes awful lightning.
His last word was, 'Love–''Love, my child, love, love!'–

(then he had done with grief)'

Love, my child.' Ere I answered he was gone,

And none was left to love in all the world.
Aurora Leigh, Book I, l. 210-214

------------------------

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints!---I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!---and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Sonnets from the Portuguese no.43

-------------

A joke i heard somewhere :

What would these composers do when hearing modern music?
If Brahms had come back to life, he would immediately go back to being death.
If Mozart had come back to life, well, he would manage to do something and live with it.
If Schoenberg had come back to life, er... no one would give a damn!

- Samita cry out 'ButI would!'


Music: a complex organization of sounds that is set down by a composer, incorrectly interpreted by a conductor, whois ignored by musicians, the result of which is ignored by any audience.

I would also add: If the music is good, do praise the player.If it’s bad, do blame the composer.