Love Among the Ruins
by Robert Browning

Where the quiet-colored end of evening smiles,
             Miles and miles
On the solitary pastures where our sheep
             Halt asleep
Tinkle homeward through the twilight, stray or stop
             As they crop—
Was the site once of a city great and gay,
             (So they say),
Of our country's very capital, its prince
             Ages since
Held his court in, gathered councils, wielding far
             Peace or war.

Now—the country does not even boast a tree,
             As you see,
To distinguish slopes of verdure, certain rills
             From the hills
Intersect and give a name to (else they run
             Into one),
Where the domed and daring palace shot its spires
             Up like fires
O'er the hundred-gated circuit of a wall
             Bounding all,
Made of marble, men might march on nor be pressed,
             Twelve abreast.

And such plenty and perfection, see, of grass
             Never was!
Such a carpet as, this summertime, o'erspreads
             And embeds
Every vestige of the city, guessed alone,
             Stock or stone—
Where a multitude of men breathed joy and woe
             Long ago;
Lust of glory pricked their hearts up, dread of shame
             Struck them tame;
And that glory and that shame alike, the gold
             Bought and sold.

Now—the single little turret that remains
             On the plains,
By the caper overrooted, by the gourd
             Overscored,
While the patching houseleek's head of blossom winks
             Through the chinks
Marks the basement whence a tower in ancient time
             Sprang sublime,
And a burning ring, all round, the chariots traced
             As they raced,
And the monarch and his minions and his dames
             Viewed the games.

And I know, while thus the quiet-colored eve
             Smiles to leave
To their folding, all our many-tinkling fleece
             In such peace,
And the slopes and rills, in undistinguished gray
             Melt away—
That a girl with eager eyes and yellow hair
             Waits me there
In the turret whence the charioteers caught soul
             For the goal,
When the king looked, where she looks now, breathless, dumb
             Till I come.

But he looked upon the city, every side,
             Far and wide,
All the mountains topped with temples, all the glades'
             Colonnades,
All the causeys, bridges, aqueducts—and then,
             All the men!
When I do come, she will speak not, she will stand,
             Either hand
On my shoulder, give her eyes the first embrace
             Of my face,
Ere we rush, ere we extinguish sight and speech
             Each on each.

In one year they sent a million fighters forth
             South and North,
And they built their gods a brazen pillar high
             As the sky,
Yet reserved a thousand chariots in full force—
             Gold, of course.
Oh heart! oh blood that freezes, blood that burns!
             Earth's returns
For whole centuries of folly, noise and sin!
             Shut them in,
With their triumphs and their glories and the rest!
             Love is best.

1.	ANALYZE STYLE What is the effect of the short, rhyming lines?
2.	MEANING What information is the speaker trying to convey about these palace walls?
3.	COMPREHENSION What is the condition of the city now?
4.	ANALYZE TONE What is the speaker's attitude toward the people of the city? What word choices help him set this tone?
5.	MEANING What kind of city is the speaker describing in this stanza?
6.	ANALYZE STYLE With what kinds of images does the speaker associate the girl?
7.	ANALYZE MOOD How does the mood change within this stanza?
8.	ANALYZE STYLE How does the poet bring the poem to a climax in this stanza?