a meeting at night

to read this poem is to see a few hours of life through browning’s eyes. a rich and clear film of the events described in this poem runs through my mind each time i read it. i see the man and the woman - for that is what i project onto this poem - i feel expectancy, desire, excitement, joy, the heart that beats fast and the heart that almost stops. i feel the deep grass of the fields brushing against my legs and arms as i walk through them. i see the stone walled farmhouse in dark brown and muted grey tones. it rises slowly from the moorland it sits in. i hear the silence broken by the wind and the tapping at the window. i hear the match scrape across the ignition strip. i see the muted flicker of a freshly lit candle through old rippled glass windows.

Meeting At Night
- Robert Browning

I.
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

II.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

here’s the author - a dapper dude! someone who knew love.