1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
|
<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<title>Childe Roland</title>
</head>
<body>
<h1>"Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came"</h1><h5>Robert Browning</h5>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>I.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>My first thought was, he lied in every word,
<dl>
<dd>That hoary cripple, with malicious eye</dd>
<dd>Askance to watch the working of his lie</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford</dd>
<dd>Suppression of the glee that pursed and scored
<dl>
<dd>Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>II.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>What else should he be set for, with his staff?
<dl>
<dd>What, save to waylay with his lies, ensnare</dd>
<dd>All travellers who might find him posted there,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>And ask the road? I guessed what skull-like laugh</dd>
<dd>Would break, what crutch 'gin write my epitaph
<dl>
<dd>For pastime in the dusty thoroughfare,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>III.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>If at his counsel I should turn aside
<dl>
<dd>Into that ominous tract which, all agree,</dd>
<dd>Hides the Dark Tower. Yet acquiescingly</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>I did turn as he pointed: neither pride</dd>
<dd>Nor hope rekindling at the end descried,
<dl>
<dd>So much as gladness that some end might be.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>IV.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>For, what with my whole world-wide wandering,
<dl>
<dd>What with my search drawn out thro' years, my hope</dd>
<dd>Dwindled into a ghost not fit to cope</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>With that obstreperous joy success would bring,</dd>
<dd>I hardly tried now to rebuke the spring
<dl>
<dd>My heart made, finding failure in its scope.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>V.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>As when a sick man very near to death
<dl>
<dd>Seems dead indeed, and feels begin and end</dd>
<dd>The tears and takes the farewell of each friend,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>And hears one bid the other go, draw breath</dd>
<dd>Freelier outside ("since all is o'er," he saith,
<dl>
<dd>"And the blow fallen no grieving can amend;")</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>VI.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>While some discuss if near the other graves
<dl>
<dd>Be room enough for this, and when a day</dd>
<dd>Suits best for carrying the corpse away,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>With care about the banners, scarves and staves:</dd>
<dd>And still the man hears all, and only craves
<dl>
<dd>He may not shame such tender love and stay.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>VII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Thus, I had so long suffered in this quest,
<dl>
<dd>Heard failure prophesied so oft, been writ</dd>
<dd>So many times among "The Band" - to wit,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>The knights who to the Dark Tower's search addressed</dd>
<dd>Their steps - that just to fail as they, seemed best,
<dl>
<dd>And all the doubt was now—should I be fit?</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>VIII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>So, quiet as despair, I turned from him,
<dl>
<dd>That hateful cripple, out of his highway</dd>
<dd>Into the path he pointed. All the day</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Had been a dreary one at best, and dim</dd>
<dd>Was settling to its close, yet shot one grim
<dl>
<dd>Red leer to see the plain catch its estray.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>IX.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>For mark! no sooner was I fairly found
<dl>
<dd>Pledged to the plain, after a pace or two,</dd>
<dd>Than, pausing to throw backward a last view</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>O'er the safe road, 'twas gone; grey plain all round:</dd>
<dd>Nothing but plain to the horizon's bound.
<dl>
<dd>I might go on; nought else remained to do.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>X.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>So, on I went. I think I never saw
<dl>
<dd>Such starved ignoble nature; nothing throve:</dd>
<dd>For flowers - as well expect a cedar grove!</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>But cockle, spurge, according to their law</dd>
<dd>Might propagate their kind, with none to awe,
<dl>
<dd>You'd think; a burr had been a treasure trove.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XI.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>No! penury, inertness and grimace,
<dl>
<dd>In some strange sort, were the land's portion. "See</dd>
<dd>Or shut your eyes," said Nature peevishly,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>"It nothing skills: I cannot help my case:</dd>
<dd>'Tis the Last Judgment's fire must cure this place,
<dl>
<dd>Calcine its clods and set my prisoners free."</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>If there pushed any ragged thistle-stalk
<dl>
<dd>Above its mates, the head was chopped; the bents</dd>
<dd>Were jealous else. What made those holes and rents</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>In the dock's harsh swarth leaves, bruised as to baulk</dd>
<dd>All hope of greenness? 'tis a brute must walk
<dl>
<dd>Pashing their life out, with a brute's intents.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XIII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>As for the grass, it grew as scant as hair
<dl>
<dd>In leprosy; thin dry blades pricked the mud</dd>
<dd>Which underneath looked kneaded up with blood.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>One stiff blind horse, his every bone a-stare,</dd>
<dd>Stood stupefied, however he came there:
<dl>
<dd>Thrust out past service from the devil's stud!</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XIV.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Alive? he might be dead for aught I know,
<dl>
<dd>With that red gaunt and colloped neck a-strain,</dd>
<dd>And shut eyes underneath the rusty mane;</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Seldom went such grotesqueness with such woe;</dd>
<dd>I never saw a brute I hated so;
<dl>
<dd>He must be wicked to deserve such pain.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XV.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>I shut my eyes and turned them on my heart.
<dl>
<dd>As a man calls for wine before he fights,</dd>
<dd>I asked one draught of earlier, happier sights,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Ere fitly I could hope to play my part.</dd>
<dd>Think first, fight afterwards - the soldier's art:
<dl>
<dd>One taste of the old time sets all to rights.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XVI.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Not it! I fancied Cuthbert's reddening face
<dl>
<dd>Beneath its garniture of curly gold,</dd>
<dd>Dear fellow, till I almost felt him fold</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>An arm in mine to fix me to the place</dd>
<dd>That way he used. Alas, one night's disgrace!
<dl>
<dd>Out went my heart's new fire and left it cold.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XVII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Giles then, the soul of honour - there he stands
<dl>
<dd>Frank as ten years ago when knighted first.</dd>
<dd>What honest men should dare (he said) he durst.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Good - but the scene shifts - faugh! what hangman hands</dd>
<dd>Pin to his breast a parchment? His own bands
<dl>
<dd>Read it. Poor traitor, spit upon and curst!</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XVIII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Better this present than a past like that;
<dl>
<dd>Back therefore to my darkening path again!</dd>
<dd>No sound, no sight as far as eye could strain.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Will the night send a howlet or a bat?</dd>
<dd>I asked: when something on the dismal flat
<dl>
<dd>Came to arrest my thoughts and change their train.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XIX.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>A sudden little river crossed my path
<dl>
<dd>As unexpected as a serpent comes.</dd>
<dd>No sluggish tide congenial to the glooms;</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>This, as it frothed by, might have been a bath</dd>
<dd>For the fiend's glowing hoof - to see the wrath
<dl>
<dd>Of its black eddy bespate with flakes and spumes.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XX.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>So petty yet so spiteful! All along
<dl>
<dd>Low scrubby alders kneeled down over it;</dd>
<dd>Drenched willows flung them headlong in a fit</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Of mute despair, a suicidal throng:</dd>
<dd>The river which had done them all the wrong,
<dl>
<dd>Whate'er that was, rolled by, deterred no whit.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXI.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Which, while I forded, - good saints, how I feared
<dl>
<dd>To set my foot upon a dead man's cheek,</dd>
<dd>Each step, or feel the spear I thrust to seek</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>For hollows, tangled in his hair or beard!</dd>
<dd>—It may have been a water-rat I speared,
<dl>
<dd>But, ugh! it sounded like a baby's shriek.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Glad was I when I reached the other bank.
<dl>
<dd>Now for a better country. Vain presage!</dd>
<dd>Who were the strugglers, what war did they wage,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Whose savage trample thus could pad the dank</dd>
<dd>Soil to a plash? Toads in a poisoned tank,
<dl>
<dd>Or wild cats in a red-hot iron cage—</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXIII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>The fight must so have seemed in that fell cirque.
<dl>
<dd>What penned them there, with all the plain to choose?</dd>
<dd>No foot-print leading to that horrid mews,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>None out of it. Mad brewage set to work</dd>
<dd>Their brains, no doubt, like galley-slaves the Turk
<dl>
<dd>Pits for his pastime, Christians against Jews.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXIV.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>And more than that - a furlong on - why, there!
<dl>
<dd>What bad use was that engine for, that wheel,</dd>
<dd>Or brake, not wheel - that harrow fit to reel</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Men's bodies out like silk? with all the air</dd>
<dd>Of Tophet's tool, on earth left unaware,
<dl>
<dd>Or brought to sharpen its rusty teeth of steel.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXV.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Then came a bit of stubbed ground, once a wood,
<dl>
<dd>Next a marsh, it would seem, and now mere earth</dd>
<dd>Desperate and done with; (so a fool finds mirth,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Makes a thing and then mars it, till his mood</dd>
<dd>Changes and off he goes!) within a rood—
<dl>
<dd>Bog, clay and rubble, sand and stark black dearth.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXVI.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Now blotches rankling, coloured gay and grim,
<dl>
<dd>Now patches where some leanness of the soil's</dd>
<dd>Broke into moss or substances like boils;</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Then came some palsied oak, a cleft in him</dd>
<dd>Like a distorted mouth that splits its rim
<dl>
<dd>Gaping at death, and dies while it recoils.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXVII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>And just as far as ever from the end!
<dl>
<dd>Nought in the distance but the evening, nought</dd>
<dd>To point my footstep further! At the thought,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>A great black bird, Apollyon's bosom-friend,</dd>
<dd>Sailed past, nor beat his wide wing dragon-penned
<dl>
<dd>That brushed my cap—perchance the guide I sought.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXVIII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>For, looking up, aware I somehow grew,
<dl>
<dd>'Spite of the dusk, the plain had given place</dd>
<dd>All round to mountains - with such name to grace</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Mere ugly heights and heaps now stolen in view.</dd>
<dd>How thus they had surprised me, - solve it, you!
<dl>
<dd>How to get from them was no clearer case.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXIX.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Yet half I seemed to recognise some trick
<dl>
<dd>Of mischief happened to me, God knows when—</dd>
<dd>In a bad dream perhaps. Here ended, then,</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Progress this way. When, in the very nick</dd>
<dd>Of giving up, one time more, came a click
<dl>
<dd>As when a trap shuts - you're inside the den!</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXX.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Burningly it came on me all at once,
<dl>
<dd>This was the place! those two hills on the right,</dd>
<dd>Crouched like two bulls locked horn in horn in fight;</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>While to the left, a tall scalped mountain... Dunce,</dd>
<dd>Dotard, a-dozing at the very nonce,
<dl>
<dd>After a life spent training for the sight!</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXXI.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>What in the midst lay but the Tower itself?
<dl>
<dd>The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart</dd>
<dd>Built of brown stone, without a counterpart</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf</dd>
<dd>Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf
<dl>
<dd>He strikes on, only when the timbers start.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXXII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Not see? because of night perhaps? - why, day
<dl>
<dd>Came back again for that! before it left,</dd>
<dd>The dying sunset kindled through a cleft:</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>The hills, like giants at a hunting, lay</dd>
<dd>Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay,—
<dl>
<dd>"Now stab and end the creature - to the heft!"</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXXIII.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>Not hear? when noise was everywhere! it tolled
<dl>
<dd>Increasing like a bell. Names in my ears</dd>
<dd>Of all the lost adventurers my peers,—</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>How such a one was strong, and such was bold,</dd>
<dd>And such was fortunate, yet each of old
<dl>
<dd>Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
<p><br /></p>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>
<dl>
<dd>XXXIV.</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>There they stood, ranged along the hillsides, met
<dl>
<dd>To view the last of me, a living frame</dd>
<dd>For one more picture! in a sheet of flame</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
<dd>I saw them and I knew them all. And yet</dd>
<dd>Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set,
<dl>
<dd>And blew "<i>Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came.</i>"</dd>
</dl>
</dd>
</dl>
</body>
</html>
|
