“Wine, pulse in might from me! 
        It may never emerge in must from vat,
      Never fill cask nor furnish can,
      Never end sweet, which strong began—­
      God’s gift to gladden the heart of man;
        But spirit’s at proof, I promise that! 
      No sparing of juice spoils what should be
        Fit brewage—­wine for me.

      Man’s thoughts and loves and hates! 
        Earth is my vineyard, these grow there: 
      From grape of the ground, I made or marred
      My vintage; easy the task or hard,
      Who set it—­his praise be my reward! 
        Earth’s yield!  Who yearn for the Dark Blue Sea’s
      Let them ’lay, pray, bray’[51]—­the addle-pates! 
        Mine be Man’s thoughts, loves, hates!”

Despite its humorous expression, the view of poetic art contained in these verses is both serious and significant.  It is a frank (if defiant) confession of faith.

At the “Mermaid", a poem of characteristic energy and directness, is a protest against the supposition or assumption that the personality and personal views and opinions of a poet are necessarily reflected in his dramatic work.  It protests, at the same time, against the sham melancholy and pseudo-despair which Byron made fashionable in poetry:—­

“Have you found your life distasteful? 
My life did and does smack sweet. 
Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? 
Mine I saved and hold complete.

Do your joys with age diminish? 
When mine fail me, I’ll complain. 
Must in death your daylight finish? 
My sun sets to rise again.

* * * * *

I find earth not gray but rosy,
Heaven not grim but fair of hue. 
Do I stoop?  I pluck a posy. 
Do I stand and stare?  All’s blue.”

House confirms or continues the primary contention in At the “Mermaid":  this time by the image of a House of Life, which some poets may choose to set on view:  “for a ticket apply to the Publisher.”  Browning not merely denounces but denies the so-called self-revelations of poets.  He answers Wordsworth’s

                “With this same key
      Shakespeare unlocked his heart,”

by the characteristic retort:—­

      “Did Shakespeare?  If so, the less Shakespeare he!”

In Shop we have another keen piece of criticism:  a protest against poets who make their shop their home, and their song mere ware for sale.

After the personal and critical section we pass to half-a-dozen lyrics:  Fears and Scruples, a covert and startling poem, a doctrine embodied in a character; then two beautiful little Pisgah-Sights, a dainty experiment in metre, and in substance the expression of Browning’s favourite lesson, the worth of earth and the need of the mystery of life; Appearances, a couple of stanzas whose telling simplicity recalls the lovely earlier lilt, Misconceptions; Natural Magic and Magical Nature, two magical snatches, as perfect as the “first fine careless rapture” of the earlier lyrics.  I quote the latter:—­