Cavalier Tunes - II - Give A Rouse

I.
King Charles, and wholl do him right now?
King Charles, and whos ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: heres, in hells despite now,
King Charles!

II.
Who gave me the goods that went since?
Who raised me the house that sank once?
Who helped me to gold I spent since?
Who found me in wine you drank once?

(Chorus.) King Charles, and wholl do him right now?
King Charles, and whos ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: heres, in hells despite now,
King Charles!

III.
To whom used my boy George quaff else,
By the old fools side that begot him?
For whom did he cheer and laugh else,
While Nolls damned troopers shot him?

(Chorus.) King Charles, and wholl do him right now?
King Charles, and whos ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: heres, in hells despite now,
King Charles!

Robert Browning

Robert Browning was an English poet and playwright whose mastery of dramatic verse, especially dramatic monologues, made him one of the foremost Victorian poets. His work was initially harshly criticized, but he gained recognition later in life. He is best known for works such as "The Ring and the Book" and "Men and Women" which exhibit his deep understanding of human character and psychological insight.

Robert Browning

The Last Ride Together

Robert Browning, Simple Poetry

Earths Immortalities

Robert Browning, Simple Poetry

The Lost Leader

Robert Browning, Simple Poetry

Asolando - Dedication

Robert Browning, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Cavalier Tunes - I. - Marching Along.

I.
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,
Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing:
And, pressing a troop unable to stoop
And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop,
Marched them along, fifty score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

II.
God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
To the Devil that prompts em their treasonous parles!
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup
Till youre (Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

III.
Hampden to hell, and his obsequies knell.
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here

(Chorus) Marching along, fi...

Robert Browning

Cavalier Tunes - III - Boot And Saddle

I.
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery grey,

(Chorus). Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

II.
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as youd say;
Manys the friend there, will listen and pray
Gods luck to gallants that strike up the lay,

(Chorus). Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

III.
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads array:
Who laughs, Good fellows ere this, by my fay,

(Chorus). Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

IV.
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, Nay!
Ive better counsellors; what counsel they?

(Chorus). Boot, saddle, to horse, and away...

Robert Browning

A Lovers Quarrel

I.

Oh, what a dawn of day!
How the March sun feels like May!
All is blue again
After last nights rain,
And the South dries the hawthorn-spray.
Only, my Loves away!
Id as lief that the blue were grey,

II.

Runnels, which rillets swell,
Must be dancing down the dell,
With a foaming head
On the beryl bed
Paven smooth as a hermits cell;
Each with a tale to tell,
Could my Love but attend as well.

III.

Dearest, three months ago!
When we lived blocked-up with snow,
When the wind would edge
In and in his wedge,
In, as far as the point could go,
Not to our ingle, though,
Where we loved each the other so!

IV.

Laughs with so little cause!
We devised games out of straws.
We...

Robert Browning

Songs From Pippa Passes

Day! Faster and more fast,
O'er night's brim, day boils at last:
Boils, pure gold, o'er the cloud-cup's brim.
Where spurting and suppressed it lay,
For not a froth-flake touched the rim
Of yonder gap in the solid gray
Of the eastern cloud, an hour away;
But forth one wavelet, then another, curled,
Till the whole sunrise, not to be suppressed,
Rose, reddened, and its seething breast
Flickered in bounds, grew gold, then overflowed the world.

All service ranks the same with God:
If now, as formerly He trod
Paradise, His presence fills
Our earth, each only as God wills
Can work God's puppets, best and worst,
Are we: there is no last nor first.

The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn:
Morning's at seven;
The hillside's dew-pea...

Robert Browning

At The Mermaid

The figure that thou here seest . . . Tut!
Was it for gentle Shakespeare put?
- B. JORSON. (Adapted.)



I next poet? No, my hearties,
I nor am nor fain would be!
Choose your chiefs and pick your parties,
Not one soul revolt to me!
I, forsooth, sow song-sedition?
I, a schism in verse provoke?
I, blown up by bards ambition,
Burst, your bubble-king? You joke.

Come, be grave! The sherris mantling
Still about each mouth, mayhap,
Breeds you insight, just a scantling,
Brings me truth out, just a scrap.
Look and tell me! Written, spoken,
Heres my life-long work: and where
Wheres your warrant or my token
Im the dead kings son and heir?

Heres my work: does work discover,
What was rest from work, my life?

Robert Browning

Youth And Art

I.
It once might have been, once only:
We lodged in a street together,
You, a sparrow on the housetop lonely,
I, a lone she-bird of his feather.

II.
Your trade was with sticks and clay,
You thumbed, thrust, patted and polished,
Then laughed They will see some day
Smith made, and Gibson demolished.

III.
My business was song, song, song;
I chirped, cheeped, trilled and twittered,
Kate Browns on the boards ere long,
And Grisis existence embittered!

IV.
I earned no more by a warble
Than you by a sketch in plaster;
You wanted a piece of marble,
I needed a music-master.

V.
We studied hard in our styles,
Chipped each at a crust like Hindoos,
For air looked out on the tiles,
For fun watched each oth...

Robert Browning