Robert Browning
Prospice (1864)
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Fear death? -- to feel the fog in my throat, |
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The mist in my face, |
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When the snows begin, and the blasts denote |
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4 |
I am nearing the place, |
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The power of the night, the press of the storm, |
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The post of the foe; |
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Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, |
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Yet the strong man must go: |
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For the journey is done and the summit attained, |
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And the barriers fall. |
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Tho’ a battle’s to fight ere the guerdon be gained, |
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12 |
The reward of it all. |
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I was ever a fighter, so -- one fight more, |
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The best and the last! |
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I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and forebore, |
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16 |
And bade me creep past. |
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No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers |
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The heroes of old, |
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Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life’s arrears |
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20 |
Of pain, darkness and cold. |
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For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, |
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The black minute’s at end, |
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And the elements’ rage, the friend-voices that rave, |
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24 |
Shall dwindle, shall blend, |
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Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, |
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Then a light, then thy breast, |
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O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, |
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28 |
And with God be the rest. |
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