Earths Immortalities
By Robert Browning
Fame
See, as the prettiest graves will do in time,
Our poets wants the freshness of its prime;
Spite of the sextons browsing horse, the sods
Have struggled thro its binding osier-rods;
Headstone and half-sunk footstone lean awry,
Wanting the brick-work promised by-and-by;
How the minute grey lichens, plate oer plate,
Have softened down the crisp-cut name and date!
Love
So, the years done with
(Love me for ever!)
All March begun with,
Aprils endeavour;
May-wreaths that bound me
June needs must sever;
Now snows fall round me,
Quenching Junes fever,
(Love me for ever!)