2. Robert Browning Poetry Quiz: Lab & Porphyria

• 'Grind away, moisten and mash up thy paste, 

  Pound at thy powder,—I am not in haste!'
• 'Now, take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill, 

  You may kiss me, old man, on my mouth if you will!'
• 'Brand, burn up, bite into its grace— 

  He is sure to remember her dying face!'
• 'What a drop! She’s not little, no minion like me— 

  That’s why she ensnared him:'
• 'But to light a pastile, and Elise, with her head 

  And her breast and her arms and her hands, should drop dead!'
• 'While they laugh, laugh at me, at me fled to the drear 

  Empty church, to pray God in, for them!—I am here.'
• 'It tore the elm-tops down for spite, 

      And did its worst to vex the lake: 

      I listened with heart fit to break.'
• 'Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl, 

      And laid her soiled gloves by, untied 

  Her hat and let the damp hair fall,'
• 'Murmuring how she loved me — she 

      Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour, 

  To set its struggling passion free'
• 'Perfectly pure and good: I found 

  A thing to do, and all her hair 

      In one long yellow string I wound 

      Three times her little throat around, 

  And strangled her.'
• 'I propped her head up as before, 

      Only, this time my shoulder bore 

  Her head, which droops upon it still:'
• 'And all night long we have not stirred, 

      And yet God has not said a word!'