Thursday, May 28, 2009
My Last Pansies
When I wrote the title up there, Browning's "My Last Duchess" came to mind. It was never a favorite of mine, but reading it just now, this part seemed appropriate, as I have been told I am bit like this, though not by people who minded, but kind of liked this quality.
Anyway, I think the pansies are just beautiful, and I can never get rid of them to plant new flowers without saving the last ones in a vase on the table. (Obviously, these had not yet made it to the table.)
And now Browning:
A heart how shall I say? too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 'twas all one! My favor at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least.