Prospice - Robert Browning - Richard Mitchley

Prospice by Robert Browning

Fear death to feel the fog in my throat

The mist in my face

When the snows begin and the blasts denote

I am nearing the place

The power of the night the press of the storm

The post of the foe

Where he stands the Arch Fear in a visible form

Yet the strong man must go

For the journey is done and the summit attained

And the barriers fall

Though a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained

The reward of it all

I was ever a fighter so—one fight more

The best and the last

I would hate that death bandaged my eyes and forbore

And bade me creep past

No let me taste the whole of it fare like my peers

The heroes of old

Bear the brunt in a minute pay glad life's arrears

Of pain darkness and cold

For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave

The black minute's at end

And the elements' rage the fiend-voices that rave

Shall dwindle shall blend

Shall change shall become first a peace out of pain

Then a light then thy breast

O thou soul of my soul I shall clasp thee again

And with God be the rest