7 NOVEMBER 1891, Page 31

ROBERT BROWNING.

I WROTE for men of mind,—not merely those Whose ears want soothing with the sweets of rhyme Or well-turned phrases. For my verse, they say, Runs roughly, as torrents do, that rumble down Some deep Swiss valley. Yes, I have often felt The impediment of language, as a rock Whereon my noble thoughts were dashed in spray : Not like my Andrea, who having skill Lacked somewhat as to soul, I having soul Lack skill,—at least they say so. That may be. I care not, so I win the thing I prayed for,—

That I being dead might speak. C. W. C. H.