POEM

PORPHYRIA’S
LOVER
ABOUT THE AUHTOR

Robert Browning (7 May 1812 – 12 December 1889) in

Camberwell, London, was a prominent English poet known for his
innovative use of the dramatic monologue and exploration of
complex psychological themes. He married fellow poet Elizabeth
Barrett Browning in 1846, whose influence greatly impacted his
work. Among his notable poems are My Last Duchess, The Ring
and the Book, and Dramatis Personae. Browning gained
significant recognition with The Ring and the Book, which marked
a turning point in his career. Following Elizabeth's death in 1861,
he returned to England with their son and continued to write until
his death on December 12, 1889. Today, Browning is celebrated as
a key figure in Victorian poetry, influencing later writers such as
T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound through his profound insights into
human psychology and morality.
ABOUT THE POEM
"Porphyria's Lover," a poem by Robert Browning published
in 1836, is a dramatic monologue that tells the story of a
speaker who describes a stormy night when his lover,
Porphyria, comes to visit him. She expresses her love and
affection, but the speaker feels insecure about their
relationship and fears losing her to societal expectations.
In a shocking turn of events, he decides to strangle her
with her own hair to keep her with him forever, believing
this act will preserve their perfect moment together. The
poem explores themes of love, obsession, and the dark
consequences of possessiveness, highlighting how intense
emotions can lead to tragic outcomes.
 The rain set early in to-night,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair.
EXPLANATION:

The poem starts by describing a stormy night with heavy rain and strong winds.
The wind is so strong that it's breaking the tops of the elm trees.
The storm is causing trouble on the lake, making the water rough and choppy.
The speaker is feeling sad and lonely, listening to the storm outside.
The speaker is feeling heartbroken and sad. Suddenly, Porphyria (the speaker's
lover) enters the room quietly. Porphyria closes the door, shutting out the cold and
stormy weather. She starts a fire in the fireplace, which was previously cold and
empty. he fire starts burning brightly, warming up the entire cottage. After starting
the fire Porphyria stands up and takes off her wet cloak and shawl. She puts her
dirty gloves aside, untying them. She's making herself comfortable Porphyria takes
off her hat, and her damp hair falls down. She finally sits down next to the
speaker.She calls out to the speaker, but they don't respond (maybe they're too sad
or lost in thought). Porphyria takes the speaker's arm and puts it around her waist.
Porphyria reveals her smooth, white shoulder. She lets her beautiful yellow hair fall
down. She gently makes the speaker's cheek rest on her shoulder.
She spreads her yellow hair all over the speaker, creating a sense of warmth and
closeness.
 Murmuring how she loved me — she
Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me for ever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria worshipped me; surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around.
EXPLANATION
Porphyria is whispering how much she loves me. She's trying her best to express her
passion, but it's hard for her.
She wants to break free from her pride and other things that hold her back. She wants
to give herself to me completely. She wants to be mine forever. Sometimes her passion
gets the better of her.
Even tonight's happy celebration can't stop her from thinking of someone (me) who is
pale and weak.
She's thinking of me, and it's affecting her. She's thinking of me because she loves me,
but it's all in vain (maybe because I'm not responding). She's come to see me despite
the bad weather. I looked up at her eyes, and I was happy and proud.
Finally, I realized that she loves me. I realized that Porphyria worships me, and it's a
surprise.
My heart is filled with joy and love, and it's growing. I'm thinking about what to do
next.
In that moment, she was completely mine. I found her to be perfectly pure and good. I
decided what to do, and I took her hair. I wound her long, yellow hair around her
throat three times. This is a strange and ominous ending to the poem.
 And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before,
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria's love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!
EXPLANATION
The speaker has strangled Porphyria, but he's convinced she didn't feel any pain. He's
certain of this, and compares her to a closed bud that holds a bee (a delicate and
peaceful image). He carefully opens her eyelids, and he sees her blue eyes laughing,
without any sign of pain or suffering. He untangles her hair from around her neck,
and her cheek flushes bright red again. He kisses her, and his passion is burning
strong. He props her head up, just like before, but this time her head is resting on his
shoulder. Her head is still drooping, but it's a peaceful, smiling, rosy little head.
Porphyria's head is happy and content, having gotten what it wanted. All her doubts
and fears have disappeared, and the speaker has gained her love instead. The speaker
is reflecting on Porphyria's love, and how she didn't realize that her one wish would be
granted (i.e., to be with the speaker). The speaker and Porphyria are sitting together
now, and they haven't moved all night. Despite the shocking and disturbing events of
the poem, God has not intervened or spoken out against them.
FORM AND STRUCTURE
“Porphyria’s Lover,” while natural in its language, does not display the
colloquialisms or dialectical markers of some of Browning’s later poems.
Moreover, while the cadence of the poem mimics natural speech, it
actually takes the form of highly patterned verse, rhyming ABABB. The
intensity and asymmetry of the pattern suggests the madness concealed
within the speaker’s reasoned self-presentation.
This poem is a dramatic monologue—a fictional speech presented as the
musings of a speaker who is separate from the poet. Like most of
Browning’s other dramatic monologues, this one captures a moment
after a main event or action. Porphyria already lies dead when the
speaker begins. Just as the nameless speaker seeks to stop time by
killing her, so too does this kind of poem seek to freeze the
consciousness of an instant.
CONCLUSION:
The speaker is a deranged and lovesick man who kills the
woman he loves and lies with her corpse, objectifying her
and disregarding her autonomy. His warped mind
convinces him that she would rather be with him forever
than live without him. The speaker's instability makes it
unclear how accurate his narrative is, and his sociopathic
tendencies are evident in his refusal to acknowledge the
wrongdoing of his actions.

Courgette
 References:

https://poemanalysis.com/robert-browning
/porphyrias-lover/
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/
46313/porphyrias-lover

Courgette
 TEAM MEMBERS

1 Deviseshamalini 5 Kavya

2 Dhanalakshmi 6 Kaviya

3 Dharshini 7 Mahalaksmi

4 Kanaga valli