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“Love’s Immortalities” by Robert Browning, 1812-1889
Sung below.

 

FAME

See, as the prettiest graves will do in time,
Our poet's wants the freshness of its prime;
Spite of the sexton's browsing horse, the sods
Have struggled through 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 o'er plate,
Have softened down the crisp-cut name and date!

LOVE.

So, the year's done with
(_Love me for ever!_)
All March begun with,
April's endeavour;
May-wreaths that bound me
June needs must sever;
Now snows fall round me,
Quenching June's fever---
(_Love me for ever!_)
 

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Paul Saevig, ‘67 on January 26, 2017 at 11:49 PM said:

It’s appropriate that we read and listen to Browning and others. We’ve reached a moment of familiarity with mortality, however uneasily, with regard to human life and the life of our world.

Technically, Bob Dylan has been compared to Browning. Their poems often seem suspended as if in mid-air, despite their imagery that can be complex and elaborate, even weighty when viewed in isolation.

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