понедельник, июня 13, 2005

Room after room,

I hunt the house through
We inhabit together.
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her,
Next time, herself! - not the trouble behind her
Left in the curtain, the couch’s perfume!
As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew, -
Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather.

Yet the day wears,
And door succeeds door;
I try the fresh fortune -
Range the wide house from the wing to the centre.
Still the same chance! she goes out as I enter.
Spend my whole day in the quest, - who cares?
But ’tis twilight, you see, - with such suites to explore,
Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!

Robert Browning
"Love In A Life"
1860s

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