J.K.S.

“ If I've dared to laugh at you, Robert Browning,
⁠'Tis with eyes that with you have often wept:
You have oftener left me smiling or frowning,
⁠Than any beside, one bard except.
But once you spoke to me, storm-tongued poet,
⁠A trivial word in an idle hour;
But thrice I looked on your face and the glow it
⁠Bore from the flame of the inward power.
But you'd many a friend you never knew of,
⁠Your words lie hid in a hundred hearts,
And thousands of hands that you've grasped but few of
⁠Would be raised to shield you from slander's darts. ”