The First Edition Browning
wrote on February 11, 2018
O thou art a rose of the past Whose autumn leaves turned Brown; Down the ages run so fast, The mast of Robert Browning Each Page of another Age tells, The piper’s pipes are calling As those autumn leaves knell Into a niche each one falling. O to those soul’s reward amass The Mass said daily on a “dally” Basis. All the more a sash Will as such make a rally. For here history lies passé In monkish chronicle and rhyme; All we need do is sashay Into another time. And mine honor is paradigm To Thyme’s aromatic pages Here “Siriously” bent. Mine Heart pregnant in other ages. So I were meant to meet Browning, If I should not have taken up, The cup of one so over-flowing And with him eaten sup. Three cheers to our Robert Browning, Who’s books say: Never decay! For someone in the astounding Future shall have at play.
An inspired poem from access to first editions of Robert Browning.