Epilogue Poem by Robert Browning

Epilogue

Rating: 3.0


At the midnight in the silence of the sleep-time,
When you set your fancies free,
Will they pass to where--by death, fools think, imprisoned--
Low he lies who once so loved you, whom you loved so,
--Pity me?

Oh to love so, be so loved, yet so mistaken!
What had I on earth to do
With the slothful, with the mawkish, the unmanly?
Like the aimless, helpless, hopeless, did I drivel
--Being--who?

One who never turned his back but marched breast forward,
Never doubted clouds would break,
Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,
Sleep to wake.

No, at noonday in the bustle of man's work-time
Greet the unseen with a cheer!
Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be,
"Strive and thrive!" cry "Speed,--fight on, fare ever
There as here!"

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ramesh T A 16 August 2016

What a force browning inspires through this verse!

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Ratnakar Mandlik 16 August 2016

A great inspirational poem which is stunning too. Thanks for sharing it here.

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Pranab K Chakraborty 16 August 2016

Oh to love so, be so loved, yet so mistaken! ...............................................Just the drop of delight human soul preserve for the new comers to land inside fire!

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Sylvia Frances Chan 15 April 2023

Top Marks for this final poem from his own pen. Love to read the great poet's poems, so very excellently written

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Sylvia Frances Chan 15 April 2023

THREE: with a great amount of optimism in his heart. He urges the audience to regard him as a person "who never turned his back but marched breast A very emotiv poem, but crystal clear and marched breast

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Sylvia Frances Chan 15 April 2023

TWO: Through this poem, Browning presents his philosophy of life. He does want to be pitied after his death, rather he wants to be remembered as an individual who accepted every trial head-on,

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Sylvia Frances Chan 15 April 2023

ONE: The great poet Robert Browning oft wrote about himself, like this final poem of his pen. the last poem of Browning's final collection of poetry, Asolando.

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Edward Kofi Louis 16 August 2016

The unseen! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

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Robert Browning

Robert Browning

London / England
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