Poems (Hardy)/Browning
BROWNING
1860
MEN said there were no ways that they could climb
The mountain some could see. Nay, more, they said,—
Beholding as through mist its veilèd head,—
It was no mountain, but a cloud; or time
Would prove it but a barren, unsublime,
And cheerless country; neither grain for bread,
Nor in its purlieus, bloom for honey spread;
Not order but confusion all its rime.
The mountain some could see. Nay, more, they said,—
Beholding as through mist its veilèd head,—
It was no mountain, but a cloud; or time
Would prove it but a barren, unsublime,
And cheerless country; neither grain for bread,
Nor in its purlieus, bloom for honey spread;
Not order but confusion all its rime.
1890
But now it is men's joy to find twelve ways
To one clear spot; and yet to find too dim
No shade, no bough vociferant with leaves
Upon the mountain. Ay, they haste to praise
The clouds they see on the horizon's rim,
Where, sovereign and serene, the great cone cleaves.
To one clear spot; and yet to find too dim
No shade, no bough vociferant with leaves
Upon the mountain. Ay, they haste to praise
The clouds they see on the horizon's rim,
Where, sovereign and serene, the great cone cleaves.