The legend is the legend of Solomon—­not the Solomon of the Bible, but the much more wonderful Solomon of the Arabian story-teller.  His power is said to have been in a certain seal ring, upon which the mystical name of Allah, or at least one of the ninety and nine mystical names, was engraved.  When he chose to use this ring, all the spirits of air, the spirits of earth, the spirits of water and the spirits of fire were obliged to obey him.  The name of such a ring is usually “Talisman.”

Here is another of Browning’s jewels, one of the last poems written shortly before his death.  It is entitled “Summum Bonum,”—­signifying “the highest good.”  The subject is a kiss; we may understand that the first betrothal kiss is the mark of affection described.  When the promise of marriage has been made, that promise is sealed or confirmed by the first kiss.  But this refers only to the refined classes of society.  Among the English people proper, especially the country folk, kissing the girls is only a form of showing mere good will, and has no serious meaning at all.

All the breath and the bloom of the year in the bag of one bee: 
All the wonder and wealth of the mine in the heart of one gem: 
In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea: 
Breath and bloom, shade and shine,—­wonder, wealth, and—­how far
above them—­
Truth, that’s brighter than gem,
Trust, that’s purer than pearl,—­
Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe—­all were for me
In the kiss of one girl.

There is in this a suggestion of Ben Jonson, who uses almost exactly the same simile without any moral significance.  The advantage of Browning is that he has used the sensuous imagery for ethical symbolism; here he greatly surpasses Jonson, though it would be hard to improve upon the beauty of Jonson’s verses, as merely describing visual beauty.  Here are Jonson’s stanzas: 

THE TRIUMPH

  See the Chariot at hand here of Love,
    Wherein my Lady rideth! 
  Each that draws is a swan or a dove,
    And well the car Love guideth. 
  As she goes, all hearts do duty
    Unto her beauty;
  And enamoured do wish, so they might
    But enjoy such a sight,
  That they still were to run by her side,
  Through swords, through seas, whither she would ride.

  Do but look on her eyes, they do light
    All that Love’s world compriseth! 
  Do but look on her hair, it is bright
    As love’s star when it riseth! 
  Do but mark, her forehead’s smoother
    Than words that soothe her;
  And from her arch’d brows such a grace
    Sheds itself through the face,
  As alone there triumphs to the life
  All the gain, all the good, of the elements’ strife.