Victorian Verse - Love in a Life - Robert Browning

The poem was published in the volume “Men and Women” in 1855, which also contained the similarly named “Life in Love”.  This also has separation as its theme.  The volume was dedicated to Elizabeth and the poems were the first published works of Browning for five years. 

Written during the couple's time in Italy, the setting is touchingly domestic, with references to their furniture and EBB’s dress.  The conceit is that the poet (Browning) is searching through their house, looking for his beloved (EBB) – but she seems to elude him. 

The poem is written in two stanzas with matching metric patterns – a tercet in dimetre, followed by a tercet in tetrameter, ending with a couplet in pentametre – a highly unusual pattern.  In stanza one, it reflects the stages of his search:  the short lines as he moves from place to place, hurriedly searching; the longer lines as  his gaze sweeps the room and he realises that she has been there but is now gone; finally, a reflection on the meaning of her presence on him and his life – that she enriches it immeasurably.

I 

Room after room, 

I hunt the house through 

We inhabit together. 

Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her 

Next time, herself! not the trouble behind her 

Left in the curtain, the couch's perfume! 

As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew: 

Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather. 

The opening places us in the room with Browning as he looks for Elizabeth.  The syntax is awkward, but, as is common with Browning, it is ordered so as to present events to us in a particular hierarchy – we focus on the room, then him hunting, then the where, which gives the search significance.  He is not concerned – his “heart” is sure that he will find her.  “Heart” is metonomy – using a part (of himself) as the whole and a familiar poetic usage to indicate the location of the emotion of love.  He believes she has just left the room, leaving signs of her presence behind.  “Trouble” is used here in the sense of “disturbance” as in “troubled waters”.  He can smell her perfume in the curtains and the couch.  He then eulogises Elizabeth as if she were some goddess who can animate objects – the flowery decoration of the “cornice” (a border where the walls of a room meet the ceiling) blossom as her dress touches it, and a mirror gleams with the reflection of a feather in her hair (feathers in the hair were a popular Victorian adornment).

II 

Yet the day wears,

And door succeeds door;

I try the fresh fortune

The poet is conscious that it is getting late and he still hasn’t found her.  The short lines of the opening tercet reflect his growing urgency and concern as he continues his hunt, as does the repeated “door after door”. 

Range the wide house from the wing to the centre.

Still the same chance! she goes out as I enter.

Spend my whole day in the quest, who cares?

The lines of the following tercet lengthen as he extends his search.  He decides to be methodical and search from the outer reaches of the house into the centre.  But she still eludes him, seeming to be just leaving the room as he enters.  His determination is unwavering; he will take as long it needs to find her, but…

But 'tis twilight, you see, with such suites to explore,

Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune!

The final couplet explains his growing concern.  It is getting dark and getting towards night.  The house is large – it has many rooms (suites) and cupboards (closets) and potential hiding places (alcoves are recesses which are formed between walls or where windows curve around).  His increasing urgency is evident in the parallelism of “such suites…”, “such closets…”, “such alcoves…”,  and the use of progressively stronger verbs, from the more general “explore” through the more specific “search” to “importune”, which means to beg or harass, looking for an answer.

We are left wondering whether he does find her, and, as a result, the uneasy feeling that this poem is about more than simply losing track of your wife in a large house.  The idea of searching for a loved one through empty rooms is often an image for death, which is reinforced by the poet’s concern at the onset of darkness and night.  It should also be remembered that EBB was in poor health throughout their married life.  She had three miscarriages before giving birth to their only son, Pen, in 1849, so her health must have been a constant source of worry.  She and Robert were never apart from the day of their elopement to the day of her death, so her absence, or fear of it, must have haunted Robert.  Although the warm Italian climate probably extended her life, EBB died in 1861, in Robert’s arms, aged 55.  Browning immediately returned to England with his son.