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Biographical and Historical: Robert Browning was born in a suburb of London in 1812. His four grandparents were respectively of English, German, Scotch, and Creole birth. After his marriage with the poet, Elizabeth Barrett, he lived in Italy, where in the old palace Casa Guidi, in Florence, they spent years of rare companionship and happiness. After her death he returned to England, but spent most of his summers abroad. On the Grand Canal, in Venice, the gondoliers point out a palace where at his son's home, Browning died in 1889. He was buried in the Poets’ Corner, Westminster Abbey.

Browning’s poems are not easy to read, because he condenses so much into a word or phrase and he often leaves large gaps to be filled in by the reader's imagination. Any one can make selections of lines and even entire poems from Tennyson, Poe, Southey, and Lanier, in which the poet has created for us verbal music and beauty. Browning, however, is not so much concerned with this side of poetry as he is with portraying correctly the varied emotions of the human soul.

“Love in the largest sense, as the divine principle working through all nature, is at the very center of Browning’s creed. His is the heartiest, happiest, most beautiful poetic voice that his age has read. He stands apart from most others of his kind and age in the positiveness of his religious faith, a faith that is based upon a conviction of the conquering universality of love and self-sacrifice.”

‘‘How They Brought the Good News” is without historical basis; the ride occurred only in the imagination of the poet. The inspiration came from Browning’s longing for a horseback gallop over the English downs.

Notes and Questions Find Ghent and Aix la Chapelle on | What does the fifth stanza tell your map. you? What was probably the nature of | Who' tells you the praise given the “good news” carried by the Roland?

messengers? The rhythm suggests the gallop of How many messengers were the horses. In which lines is there? this suggestion most marked? What makes you think so? Indicate the rhythmic movement. Words and Phrases for Discussion “postern” “pique” ‘‘askance” ‘‘ burgesses” “stirrup” “twilight.” ‘‘haunches” ‘‘ holster’?

“Good speed! cried the watch as the gate-bolts undrew’’
“With resolute shoulders each butting away
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray”

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INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP

ROBERT BROWNING

YoU know, we French stormed Ratisbon:
A mile or so away,
On a little mound, Napoleon
Stood on our storming-day;
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,
Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone brow
Oppressive with its mind.

Just as perhaps he mused, “My plans
That soar, to earth may fall,
Let once my army-leader, Lannes,
Waver at yonder wall,”—
Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew
A rider, bound on bound
Full-galloping; nor bridle drew
Until he reached the mound.

Then off there flung in smiling joy,
And held himself erect
By just his horse's mane, a boy:
You hardly could suspect—
(So tight he kept his lips compressed,
Scarce any blood came through)
You looked twice ere you saw his breast
Was all but shot in two.

“Well,” cried he, “Emperor, by God's grace,
We’ve got you Ratisbon

The marshal’s in the market-place,
And you’ll be there anon

To see your flag-bird flap his vans
Where I, to heart’s desire,

Perched him " The chief's eye flashed; his plans
Soared up again like fire.

The chief's eye flashed; but presently
Softened itself, as sheathes
35 A film the mother eagle's eye
When her bruised eaglet breathes:
“You’re wounded !” “Nay,” the soldier's pride
Touched to the quick, he said:
“I’m killed, sire!” And his chief beside,
40 Smiling, the boy fell dead.

HELPS TO STUDY Notes and Questions On your map find Ratisbon on the Tell the story of the boy rider.

Danube River. What was the mission of the boy What picture have you of Na- who rode alone?

poleon from reading this poem? | Was his heroism greater because he What word used figuratively tells was alone?

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ON the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two, Did the English fight the French—woe to France! And the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the blue, Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue, 5 Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance, With the English fleet in view.

’Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase;

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First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville; Close on him fled, great and small, Twenty-two good ships in all; And they signalled to the place, “Help the winners of a racel Get us guidance, give us harbor, take us quick—or, quicker still, Here's the English can and will !”

Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board;
“Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?”
laughed they:
“Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and
scored,
Shall the “Formidable’ here, with her twelve and eighty guns,
Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way,
Trust to enter—where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons,
And with flow at full beside? -
Now, 'tis slackest ebb of tide.
Reach the mooring? Rather say,
While rock stands or water runs,
Not a ship will leave the bay P’

Then was called a council straight.
Brief and bitter the debate:
“Here's the English at our heels; would you have them take in tow
All that’s left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow,
For a prize to Plymouth Sound? Better run the ships aground !”
(Ended Damfreville his speech).
“Not a minute more to wait!
Let the captains all and each
Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach
France must undergo her fate.

“Give the word l’” But no such word

Was ever spoke or heard:
For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck, amid all these,_

A captain a lieutenant? a mate,_first, second, third P

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No such man of mark, and meet

With his betters to compete'

But a simple Breton sailor, pressed by Tourville for the fleet, A poor coasting-pilot, he, Hervé Riel, the Croisickese.

And “What mockery or malice have we here?” cried Hervé Riel.
“Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues?
Talk to me of rocks and shoals?—me, who took the soundings, tell
On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell,
'Twixt the offing here and Grève, where the river disembogues?
Are you bought by English gold? Is it love the lying's for?
Morn and eve, night and day,
Have I piloted your bay,
Entered free and anchored fast at the foot of Solidor.
Burn the fleet, and ruin France? That were worse than fifty
Hogues!
Sirs, they know I speak the truth! Sirs, believe me, there's a
way! .
Only let me lead the line,
Have the biggest ship to steer,
Get this Formidable clear,
Make the others follow mine,
And I lead them, most and least, by a passage I know well,
Right to Solidor past Grève,
And there lay them safe and sound;
And if one ship misbehave,
Keel so much as grate the ground,
Why, I’ve nothing but my life, here's my head s” cries Hervé
Riel.

Not a minute more to wait.

“Steer us in, then, small and great!
Take the helm, lead the line, save the squadron l’ cried its

chief.

Captains, give the sailor place'
He is Admiral, in brief. -

Still the north-wind, by God’s graces

See the noble fellow’s face

As the big ship, with a bound,

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