In Praise of Robert Browning
A WAY with trivial bays,
With wreaths and dithyrambs,
Upon this day of a myriad days
When a great heart came to walk earth's ways
And sing it free of shams!
To sing it free of the pale complaint
Of souls that will not climb;
And free of the petty coward taint
Of the cavillers at Time:
To gaze so clearly far
Into its mystic clod
As to be sure it is a star
Tilled by the touch of God!
With wreaths and dithyrambs,
Upon this day of a myriad days
When a great heart came to walk earth's ways
And sing it free of shams!
To sing it free of the pale complaint
Of souls that will not climb;
And free of the petty coward taint
Of the cavillers at Time:
To gaze so clearly far
Into its mystic clod
As to be sure it is a star
Tilled by the touch of God!
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