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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116134" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Porphyria's Lover</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The rain set early in to-night,<br> The sullen wind was soon awake,<br>It tore the elm-tops down for spite,<br> And did its worst to vex the lake:<br> I listened with heart fit to break.<br>When glided in Porphyria; straight<br> She shut the cold out and the storm,<br>And kneeled and made the cheerless grate<br> Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;<br> Which done, she rose, and from her form<br>Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,<br> And laid her soiled gloves by, untied<br>Her hat and let the damp hair fall,<br> And, last, she sat down by my side<br> And called me. When no voice replied,<br>She put my arm about her waist,<br> And made her smooth white shoulder bare<br>And all her yellow hair displaced,<br> And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,<br> And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair,<br>Murmuring how she loved me – she<br> Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour,<br>To set its struggling passion free<br> From pride, and vainer ties dissever,<br> And give herself to me forever.<br>But passion sometimes would prevail,<br> Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain<br>A sudden thought of one so pale<br> For love of her, and all in vain:<br> So, she was come through wind and rain<br>Be sure I looked up at her eyes<br> Happy and proud; at last I knew<br>Porphyria worshiped me; surprise<br> Made my heart swell, and still it grew<br> While I debated what to do.<br>That moment she was mine, mine, fair,<br> Perfectly pure and good: I found<br>A thing to do, and all her hair<br> In one long yellow string I wound<br> Three times her little throat around,<br>And strangled her. No pain felt she;<br> I am quite sure she felt no pain.<br>As a shut bud that holds a bee,<br> I warily oped her lids: again<br> Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.<br>And I untightened next the tress<br> About her neck; her cheek once more<br>Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:<br> I propped her head up as before,<br> Only, this time my shoulder bore<br>Her head, which droops upon it still:<br> The smiling rosy little head,<br>So glad it has its utmost will,<br> That all it scorned at once is fled,<br> And I, its love, am gained instead!<br>Porphyria's love: she guessed not how<br> Her darling one wish would be heard.<br>And thus we sit together now,<br> And all night long we have not stirred,<br> And yet God has not said a word!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Browning">Robert Browning</a> from <i>Cavalier Tunes</i><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=116134" data-title="Porphyria's Lover de Robert Browning" data-description="The rain set early in to-night,/ The sullen wind was soon awake,/It tore the elm-tops down for spite,/ And did its worst to vex the lake:/ I listened with heart fit to break./When glided in Porphyria; straight/ She shut the cold out and the storm,..."></div>
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