Prospice

I'm in a poetry groove lately. The other night again I finished work in the wee hours and sat down in the big chair with every intention of falling asleep quickly. But I picked up a book of poetry and before long I was furiously memorizing Prospice, by Robert Browning. An hour later I finally drifted to sleep, my lips unintelligibly repeating the stanzas. The next day I kept repeating it, until it was mine--a companion for life.


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

Poetry is so personal and so subjective. "Prospice" is to look forward. Browning wrote this poem a few months after the death of his dearly beloved Elizabeth Barrett Browning. And yes, he is looking forward to seeing her again. In many ways, that is his reward. But it's important to him that he die well--with courage and honor. Maybe to deserve to be in her presence. But I think, perhaps, more because it is part of his being a real man.

Does he fear Death? Well, yes. Like a man would fear a harsh storm in the night, like he would fear an enemy sentinel, like a warrior fears battle, or a condemned man the firing squad. But like a good sailor, we will head out into the storm, wtih the fog in his throat and the mist in his face; he will walk past the sentinel; he will fight the last battle and face his executioners without a blindfold.

He does this because he has overcome his fear of death. That is duty and honor--to discipline yourself to do what is right no matter the challenge. He has put it in perspective. If this world is a test, then surely this is the final passage, and to live life well is to die well too. Is it painful? Well, yes, but instead of running from the pain, embrace it heroically. Death is the price we pay for life, and until we meet our death, we are in arrears, and in fact we will never clear the balance without an honorable death, that is, the measure of our lives will be found wanting.

And then, as the light expires, everything changes. Our existence is transformed from temporal travails to a celestial existence, the apex of which is to be reunited with the love of his earthly life. How beautifully, emotionally, hopefully and lovingly he describes this passage, where Elizabeth waits on the other side. Read it deliberately:

And the elements rage, the fiend-voices that rave
Shal dwindle ... shall blend ... shall change ...
Shall become first a peace out of pain ...

Then a light ...

Then thy breast ...

'O thy soul of my soul ... I shall see thee again!
And with God be the rest.


The last line is interesting.

I think--that now we will spend the rest of eternity together with God.
But maybe--I have passed my earthly test well, and judgment is in God's hands?
I have been given my reward (to be with my love), and let God turn his attention to everyone else?

Enough rambling--really steam-of-consciousness and excruciatingly long for a blog. Learning a poem is a beautiful thing.