第5章

Mostchildrenlovejinglingrhymes，andoneneednotbeaborngeniustoimprovisearhymingcoupletonanoccasion。

Itisquitecertainthatinnothingintheseearlypoemicules，insuchatleastashavebeenpreservedwithoutthepoet’sknowledgeandagainsthiswill，isthereanythingofgenuinepromise。

Hundredsofyoungstershavewrittenasgood，orbetter，OdestotheMoon，StanzasonaFavouriteCanary，LinesonaButterfly。

Whatismuchmoretothepointis，thatattheageofeighthewasablenotonlytoread，buttotakedelightinPope’stranslationofHomer。

Heusedtogoaboutdeclaimingcertaincoupletswithanairofintenseearnestnesshighlydivertingtothosewhooverheardhim。

AboutthistimealsohebegantotranslatethesimplerodesofHorace。

Oneofthese(viii。Bk。II。)longafterwardssuggestedtohimthethemeofhis“InstansTyrannus“。Ithasbeenputonrecordthathissisterremembershim，asaverylittleboy，walkingroundandroundthedining-roomtable，andspanningoutthescansionofhisverseswithhishandonthesmoothmahogany。Hewasscarcemorethanachildwhen，oneGuyFawkes’day，heheardawomansinginganunfamiliarsong，whoseburdenwas，“FollowingtheQueenoftheGipsies，O!“Thisrefrainhauntedhimoftenintheafteryears。Thatbeautifulfantasticromance，“TheFlightoftheDuchess“，wasbornoutofaninsistentmemoryofthiswoman’ssnatchofsong，heardinchildhood。Hewastenwhen，afterseveral`passionsmalheureuses’，thisprecociousLotharioplungedintoaloveaffairwhoseintensitywasonlyequalledbyitshopelessness。

Atrifleoffifteenyears’seniorityandahusbandcomplicatedmatters，butitwasnottillaftertherecklessexpenditureofaHoratianodeuponanunclassicalmistressthathegaveuphope。TheoutcomeofthiswaswhattheelderBrowningregardedasastartlingeffusionofmuchByronicverse。

TheyoungRobertyearnedforwastesofoceanandillimitablesands，fordarkeyesandburningcaresses，fordespairthatnothingcouldquenchbutthesilentgrave，and，inparticular，forhollowmockinglaughter。

Hisfatherlookedaboutforasuitableschool，anddecidedtoentrusttheboy’sfurthereducationtoMr。Ready，ofPeckham。

Hereheremainedtillhewasfourteen。Butalreadyheknewthedominionofdreams。Hischiefenjoyment，onholidayafternoons，wastogainanunfrequentedspot，wherethreehugeelmsre-echoedthetonesofincoherenthumanmusicbornethitherwardbythewestwindsacrossthewastesofLondon。Herehelovedtolieanddream。

Alas，thoseelms，thathighremotecoign，havelongsincepassedtothe“hiddenway“whitherthesnowsofyesteryearhavevanished。

HewouldlieforhourslookingupondistantLondon

agoldencityofthewestliterallyenough，oftentimes，whenthesunlightcamestreaminginlongshaftsfrombehindthetowersofWestminsterandflasheduponthegoldcrossofSt。Paul’s。

Thecomingandgoingofthecloud-shadows，thesweepingofsuddenrains，thedullsilvernlightemanatingfromthehazeofmistshroudingthevastcity，withtheaddedtransitorygleamoftroubledwaters，thedriftingoffogs，atthatdistanceseeminglikegiganticveilsconstantlybeingmovedforwardandthenslowlywithdrawn，asthoughsomesinistercreatureoftheatmospherewerecastinganetamongallthedrossanddebrisofhumanlifeforfantasticsustenanceofitsownallthisendless，ever-changing，alwaysnovelphantasmagoriahadforhimanextraordinaryfascination。Oneofthememorablenightsofhisboyhoodwasanevewhenhefoundhisway，notwithoutperturbationofspiritbecauseoftheunfamiliarsolitarydark，tohislovedelms。

There，forthefirsttime，hebeheldLondonbynight。

Itseemedtohimthenmorewonderfulandappallingthanallthehostofstars。

Therewassomethingominousinthatheavypulsatingbreath：

visible，inawaningandwaxingofthetremulous，ruddyglowabovetheblackenmassedleaguesofmasonry；audible，inthelowinarticulatemoaningborneeastwardacrossthecrestsofNorwood。

Itwasthenandtherethatthetragicsignificanceoflifefirstdimlyawedandappealedtohisquestioningspirit：

thattherhythmofhumanityfirsttoucheddeeplyinhimacorrespondingchord。

Chapter2。

Itwascertainlyaboutthistime，asheadmittedonceinoneofhisrarereminiscentmoods，thatBrowningfelttheartisticimpulsestirringwithinhim，liketherisingofthesapinatree。

Herememberedhismother’smusic，andhopedtobeamusician：herecollectedhisfather’sdrawings，andcertainseductivelandscapesandseascapesbypainterswhomhehadheardcalled“theNorwichmen“，andhewishedtobeanartist：thenreminiscencesoftheHomericlinesheloved，ofhauntingverse-melodies，movedhimmostofall。

“Ishallnever，intheyearsremaining，Paintyoupictures，no，norcarveyoustatues，Makeyoumusicthatshouldall-expressme：……versealone，onelifeallowsme。“

HenowgavewaytothecompulsiveByronicvogue，withanoccasionalrelapsetothepolishedartificialismofhisfather’sidolamongBritishpoets。

Therewereseveralballadswrittenatthistime：ifIrememberaright，thepoetspecifiedthe“DeathofHarold“asthethemeofone。Longafterwardshereadtheseboyishforerunnersof“Overtheseaourgalleyswent“，and“HowtheyBroughttheGoodNewsfromGhenttoAix“，andwasamusedbytheirderivativeifdelicatemelodies。

Mrs。Browningwasveryproudoftheseearlybloomsofsong，andwhenhertwelve-year-oldson，tiredofvaineffortstoseduceapublisherfromthewarywaysofbusiness，surrenderedindisgusthisneatlycopiedoutandcarefullystitchedMSS。，shelostnoopportunitywhenMr。Browningwasabsent

toexpatiateupontheirmerits。AmongthepeopletowhomsheshowedthemwasaMissFlower。Thisladytookthemhome，perusedthem，discerneddormantgeniuslurkingbehindtheboyishhandwriting，readthemtohersister(afterwardstobecomeknownasSarahFlowerAdams)，copiedthemoutbeforereturningthem，andpersuadedthecelebratedRev。

WilliamJohnsonFoxtoreadthetranscripts。Mr。FoxagreedwithMissFlowerastothepromise，butnotaltogetherastotheactualaccomplishment，noratallastotheadvisabilityofpublication。Theoriginalsaresupposedtohavebeendestroyedbythepoetduringtheeventfulperiodwhen，owingtoafortunategift，poetrybecameanewthingforhim：fromadream，vague，ifseductive，assummer-lightning，transformedtoadominatingreality。

Passingabookstalloneday，hesaw，inaboxofsecond-handvolumes，alittlebookadvertisedas“Mr。Shelley’sAtheisticalPoem：veryscarce。“

HehadneverheardofShelley，nordidhelearnforalongtimethatthe“DaemonoftheWorld“，andthemiscellaneouspoemsappendedthereto，constitutedaliterarypiracy。Badlyprinted，shamefullymutilated，thesediscardedblossomstouchedhimtoanewemotion。Popebecamefurtherremovedthanever：Byron，even，losthismagneticsupremacy。

Fromvagueremarksinreplytohisinquiries，andfromoneortwocasualallusions，helearnedthattherereallywasapoetcalledShelley；

thathehadwrittenseveralvolumes；thathewasdead。

Strangeasitmayseem，Browningdeclaredoncethatthenewsofthisunknownsinger’sdeathaffectedhimmorepoignantlythandid，ayearorlessearlier，thetidingsofByron’sheroicendatMissolonghi。

HebeggedhismothertoprocurehimShelley’sworks，arequestnoteasilycompliedwith，fortheexcellentreasonthatnotoneofthelocalbooksellershadevenheardofthepoet’sname。

Ultimately，however，Mrs。BrowninglearnedthatwhatshesoughtwasprocurableattheOlliers’inVereStreet，London。

Shewasverypleasedwiththeresultofhervisit。Thebooks，itistrue，seemedunattractive：buttheywouldpleaseRobert，nodoubt。

Ifthatpackethadbeenlostweshouldnothavehad“Pauline“：wemighthavehadadifferentBrowning。ItcontainedmostofShelley’swritings，allintheirfirstedition，withtheexceptionof“TheCenci“：

inaddition，therewerethreevolumesbyanevenlessknownpoet，JohnKeats，whichkindlyMrs。BrowninghadbeenpersuadedtoincludeinherpurchaseonMr。Ollier’sassurancethattheywerethepoetickindredofShelley’swritings，andthatMr。Keatswasthesubjectoftheelegiacpoeminthepurplepapercover，withtheforeign-lookingtypeandtheimprint“Pisa“atthefootofthetitle-page，entitled“Adonais“。

Whataneveningfortheyoungpoetthatmusthavebeen。HetoldafrienditwasaMaynight，andthatinalaburnum，“heavywithitsweightofgold，“

andinagreatcopper-beechattheendofaneighbour’sgarden，twonightingalesstroveoneagainsttheother。ForamomentitisapleasantfancytoimaginethattherethesoulsofKeatsandShelleyutteredtheirenfranchisedmusic，notinrivalrybutinwelcome。

Wecanrealise，perhaps，somethingofthestartleddelight，ofthesuddenelectrictremors，oftheyoungpoetwhen，witheagereyes，heturnedoverthepagesof“Epipsychidion“or“PrometheusUnbound“，“Alastor“or“Endymion“，ortheOdestoaNightingale，onMelancholy，onaGrecianUrn。

MorethanonceBrowningalludedtothisexperienceashisfirstpervasivejoy，hisfirstfreehappinessinoutlook。Ofteninafterlifehewasfain，likehis“wisethrush“，to“recapturethatfirstfinecarefreerapture。“

Itwasaneventfuleve。

“Andsuddenly，withoutheart-wreck，IawokeAsfromadream。“

Thenceforthhispoeticdevelopmentwasrapid，andcontinuous。

Shelleyenthralledhimmost。Thefireandspiritofthegreatpoet’sverse，wildandstrangeoften，buteverwithanexquisitenessofmusicwhichseemedtohisadmirer，thenandlater，supreme，thrilledhimtoaverypassionofdelight。Somethingofthemorerichlycoloured，themorehumanrhythmofKeatsaffectedhimalso。Indeed，alinefromtheOdetoaNightingale，incommonwithoneoftheloveliestpassagesin“Epipsychidion“，hauntedhimaboveallothers：