Robert Browning

“ As a tired slave goes adding stone to stone
Until he stop some current that molests,
So poor Admetos piled up argument
Vainly against the purpose, all too plain
In that great brow acquainted with command.
"Nowise dishonouring, nor mid my foes
Ranking thee, did I hide my wife's ill fate;
But it were grief superimposed on grief,
Should'st thou have hastened to another home. ⁠2190
My own woe was enough for me to weep!
But, for this woman, — if it so may be, —
Bid some Thessalian, — I entreat thee, king! —
Keep her, — who has not suffered like myself! ”

“ To guests, a servant should not sour-faced be,
But do the honours with a mind urbane.
While thou, contrariwise, beholding here
Arrive thy master's comrade, hast for him
A churlish visage, all one beetle-brow —
Having regard to grief that's out-of-door!
Come hither, and so get to grow more wise!
Things mortal — know'st the nature that they have?
No, I imagine! whence could knowledge spring?
Give ear to me, then! For all flesh to die, ⁠1790
Is Nature's due ”

“ And, — how should I know? — half a mountain goat
Torn up and swallowed down, — the feast was fierce
But brief: all cares and pains took wing and flew,
Leaving the hero ready to begin
And help mankind, whatever woe came next. ”

“ Thou, by sheer strength, dost conquer and subdue;
Nor, of that harsh abrupt resolve of thine,
Any relenting is there!"
"O my king!
Thee also, in the shackles of those hands, ⁠2080
Not to be shunned, the Goddess grasped! Yet, bear!
Since never wilt thou lead from underground
The dead ones, wail thy worst! If mortals die, —
The very children of immortals, too,
Dropped 'mid our darkness, these decay as sure! ”

“ The great vein-cordage on the fret-worked front,
Black-swollen, beaded yet with battle-dew
The yellow hair o' the hero! — his big frame
A-quiver with each muscle sinking back
Into the sleepy smooth it leaped from late.
Under the great guard of one arm, there leant
A shrouded something, live and woman-like,
Propped by the heart-beats 'neath the lion-coat. ”

“ To us, our master's sorrow is a care."
"This word begins no tale of alien woe!"
"Had it been other woe than intimate,
I could have seen thee feast, nor felt amiss."
"What! have I suffered strangely from my host?"
"Thou cam'st not at a fit reception-time:
With sorrow here beforehand: and thou seest
Shorn hair, black robes."
"But who is it that's dead?
Some child gone? or the aged sire perhaps?"
"Admetos' wife, then! she has perished, guest!" ⁠1840
"How sayest? ”

“ Moaning for what a guardian they have lost!
Inside my house such circumstance awaits.
Outside, — Thessalian people's marriage-feasts
And gatherings for talk will harass me,
With overflow of women everywhere ”

“ That "children of immortals, dropped by stealth
Into our darkness, die as sure as we!" ⁠2110
A case to quote and comfort people with:
But, as for lamentation, ai and pheu.
Right-minded subjects kept them for their lord. ”