Send some poems to a friend - the love thought that counts!
Poems for the People   -  Poems by the People

Passions in PoetryTwo in the Campagna
by Robert Browning

 

 Your Response Panel

Friend

Email this poem to a Friend (or yourself)

eCard

Create a Greeting Card for a Friend

Vote

Vote for this Poem (see comments below the poem)

Print

Display a Printable web page with this poem
Resources Submit an Article, Link or Note about this Poem

 

Love Poems
Sad Poems
Friendship Poems
Poems on Life
Poetry Buffet
Read the latest Passionate News and discover what's happening in the world of poetry.If you have a question, we probably have the answer in our Frequently Asked Questions section
Every Resident Poet gets their own page, listing all their published worksLearn how to sell your poetry to the magazine or book markets
Links to some of the BEST Poetry sites on the Net!Search our huge database of poems for that special word or phrase
Instant Gratification - and thousands more poems! Join our growing community.You, too, can have your poetry showcased to the world!
Full list of ALL our poetry categories
Learn to write better poetry in our Learning Center!
Browse or send a poem from the classical Masters of poetry
Mix beautiful art with our poetry, and send the results to that special someone in your life
Passions in Poetry Home > All Poems > Classic Poetry > Robert Browning > Up at a Villadown in the City Up at a Villadown in the City
Robert Browning
Poetry | Biography
Two in the Campagna
by Robert Browning

I wonder how you feel to-day
As I have felt since, hand in hand,
We sat down on the grass, to stray
In spirit better through the land,
This morn of Rome and May?

For me, I touched a thought, I know,
Has tantalized me many times,
(Like turns of thread the spiders throw
Mocking across our path) for rhymes
To catch at and let go.

Help me to hold it! First it left
The yellow fennel, run to seed
There, branching from the brickwork's cleft,
Some old tomb's ruin: yonder weed
Took up the floating weft,

Where one small orange cup amassed
Five beetles, -blind and green they grope
Among the honey meal: and last,
Everywhere on the grassy slope
O traced it. Hold it fast!

The champaign with its endless fleece
Of feathery grasses everywhere!
Silence and passion, joy and peace,
An everlasting wash of air-
Rome's ghost since her decease.

Such life here, through such lengths of hours,
Such miracles performed in play,
Such primal naked forms of flowers,
Such letting nature have her way
While heaven looks from its towers!

How say you? Let us, O my dove,
Let us be unashamed of soul,
As earth lies bare to heaven above!
How is it under our control
To love or not to love?
I would that you were all to me,
You that are just so much, no more.
Nor yours nor mine, nor slave nor free!
Where does the fault lie? What the core
O' the wound, since wound must be?

I would I could adopt your will,
See with your eyes, and set my heart
Beating by yours, and drink my fill
At your soul's springs, - your part my part
In life, for good and ill.

No. I yearn upward, touch you close,
Then stand away. I kiss your cheek,
Catch your soul's warmth, - I pluck the rose
And love it more than tongue can speak-
Then the good minute goes.

Already how am I so far
Our of that minute? Must I go
Still like the thistle-ball, no bar,
Onward, whenever light winds blow,
Fixed by no friendly star?

Just when I seemed about to learn!
Where is the thread now? Off again!
The Old trick! Only I discern-
Infinite passion, and the pain
Of finite hearts that yearn.

 

Submission Notes: None

Classic Home > Robert Browning >> Up at a Villadown in the City Up at a Villadown in the City
If you have written a paper about this poem or poet, you can submit it for possible publication with our other Resources.

Submit paper about Two in the Campagna

Submit paper about Robert Browning

Passions in Poetry

Top | All Poems | About Passions in Poetry | Your Privacy | Email Us
All poetry is copyright by the individual authors.
All other material on this web site, unless otherwise noted, is
Copyright 1998 - 2017 by Ron Carnell and Passions in Poetry.