Random thoughts on a Poem

Yesterday evening a gloomy feeling crept in to my mind . There was no reason that i could think of for the sudden mood change. It happens, sometimes with me, without a notice. It's like the sudden grey clouds appearing in the blue and bright sky.

The reasons may have been seeded in the subconscious mind in some forgotten past. It's futile to search for the cause in the present. Anyway, I had no option but to deal with it. Normally, I would try to sleep it off or go on a long drive on my Motorbike or if the opportunity presented, would down a couple of drinks and sing away the depression in sentimental foolery.

But, yesterday there was no chance of doing any of those escapist formulas. So, forced myself to open the long neglected ' Palgrave's Golden treasury' and randomly opened the pages  to find the  poem " Meeting at Midnight" by Robert Browning.

It took me some five readings of the small poem to make any sense and then read some more times and gradually the poem, its language and imagery engulfed my senses. After a while I realized  the melancholic mood has slipped away. The rhythm and cadence of the words, probably, soothed the mind. The effect was better than any of the above methods I used to adopt while in a bad mood. To keep the feeling going, i decided to memorize it and by the time I was going to bed, the poem was on my lips and the first thing I uttered when I woke up was " The grey sea and the long black land............".

Meeting at Night

The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little wave that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.


Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

By Robert Browning


My favorite from the poem are the line 9 & 10. The three images: A tap at the pane; quick sharp scratch and the spurt of a lighted match. I could almost hear the scratch of a match stick on the sulfurous strip of the box and the resultant flickering flame.