A Face
If one could have that little head of hersPainted upon a background of pale gold,Such as the Tuscan's early art prefers!No shade encroaching on the matchless moldOf those two lips, which should be opening softIn the pure profile; not as when she laughs,For that spoils all; but rather as if aloftYon hyacinth, she loves so, leaned its staff'sBurthen of honey-colored buds to kissAnd capture 'twixt the lips apart for this.Then her lithe neck, three fingers might surround,How it should waver on the pale gold groundUp to the fruit-shaped, perfect chin it lifts!I know, Correggio loves to mass, in riftsOf heaven, his angel faces, orb on orbBreaking its outline, burning shades absorb;But these are only massed there, I should think,Waiting to see some wonder momentlyGrow out, stand full, fade slow against the sky(That's the pale ground you'd see this sweet face by),All heaven, meanwhile, condensed into one eyeWhich fears to lose the wonder, should it wink.
Words in this poem
- lithe v. i.
- To listen or listen to; to hearken to. P. Plowman. [Icel Listen.]
- waver v. i.
- To play or move to and fro; to move one way and the other; hence, to totter; to reel; to swing; to flutter. [OE. waveren, from AS. wæfre wavering, restless. See Wave, v. i.]
- meanwhile n.
- The intervening time; as, in the meantime (or mean time).
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
A Face is in the public domain. This text is taken from Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning, Project Gutenberg ebook #28041; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Robert Browning, A Face, in Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning (1864), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #28041, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/browning-selections/a-face.html, id L25116.
Form and metre
A Face is 22 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 85%).
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABCDCDEEFFGGHHI-JJJI hersA · goldB · prefersA · moldB · softC · laughsD · aloftC · staff'sD · kissE · thisE · surroundF · groundF · liftsG · riftsG · orbH · absorbH · thinkI · momently · skyJ · byJ · eyeJ · winkI
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| If one could have that little head of hers | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
| Painted upon a background of pale gold, | 10 | /˘···/···· |
| Such as the Tuscan's early art prefers! | 10 | ···/˘/˘·˘/ |
| No shade encroaching on the matchless mold | 10 | ··˘/˘··/˘· |
| Of those two lips, which should be opening soft | 10 | ·······/˘· |
| In the pure profile; not as when she laughs, | 10 | ···/······ |
| For that spoils all; but rather as if aloft | 11 | ·····/˘··˘/ |
| Yon hyacinth, she loves so, leaned its staff's | 10 | ·/˘······· |
| Burthen of honey-colored buds to kiss | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘··· |
| And capture 'twixt the lips apart for this. | 10 | ·/˘···˘/·· |
| Then her lithe neck, three fingers might surround, | 10 | ·····/˘·˘/ |
| How it should waver on the pale gold ground | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Up to the fruit-shaped, perfect chin it lifts! | 10 | ·····˘/··· |
| I know, Correggio loves to mass, in rifts | 10 | ·········· |
| Of heaven, his angel faces, orb on orb | 10 | ·/·/˘/˘··· |
| Breaking its outline, burning shades absorb; | 10 | /˘·/·/˘·˘/ |
| But these are only massed there, I should think, | 10 | ···/˘····· |
| Waiting to see some wonder momently | 10 | /˘···/˘/˘˘ |
| Grow out, stand full, fade slow against the sky | 10 | ·········· |
| (That's the pale ground you'd see this sweet face by), | 10 | ·········· |
| All heaven, meanwhile, condensed into one eye | 10 | ·//·˘/···· |
| Which fears to lose the wonder, should it wink. | 10 | ·····/˘··· |
On this poem
Notes from the edition 1
Notes by Myra Reynolds, Selections from the Poems and Plays of Robert Browning (Project Gutenberg #28041).
- Line 14 Correggio. A famous Italian painter of the Lombard school. These lines well describe his style.
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