ROBERT BROWNING

by: Henry van Dyke (1852-1933)

OW blind the toil that burrows like the mole,

In winding graveyard pathways underground,

For Browning's lineage! What if men have found

Poor footmen or rich merchants on the roll

Of his forbears? Did they beget his soul?

Nay, for he came of ancestry renowned

Through all the world, -- the poets laurel-crowned

With wreaths from which the autumn takes no toll.

 

The blazons on his coat-of-arms are these:

The flaming sign of Shelley's heart on fire,

The golden globe of Shakespeare's human stage,

The staff and scrip of Chaucer's pilgrimage,

The rose of Dante's deep, divine desire,

The tragic mask of wise Euripides.

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