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Lyric Poem · Nature

Natural Magic

by Robert Browning

All I can say is — I saw it!

The room was as bare as your hand.

I locked in the swarth little lady, — I swear,

From the head to the foot of her — well, quite as bare!

"No Nautch shall cheat me," said I, "taking my stand

At this bolt which I draw!" And this bolt — I withdraw it,

And there laughs the lady, not bare, but embowered

With — who knows what verdure, o'erfruited, o'erflowered?

Impossible! Only — I saw it!

All I can sing is — I feel it!

This life was as blank as that room;

I let you pass in here. Precaution, indeed?

Walls, ceiling, and floor, — not a chance for a weed!

Wide opens the entrance: where's cold, now, where's gloom?

No May to sow seed here, no June to reveal it,

Behold you enshrined in these blooms of your bringing,

These fruits of your bearing — nay, birds of your winging!

A fairy-tale! Only — I feel it!

This poem is in the public domain.

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