ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.

THE POET AND THE WOODLOUSE

(E. B. BROWNING)

Said a poet to a woodlouse—'Thou art certainly my brother;

I discern in thee the markings of the fingers of the Whole;

And I recognize, in spite of all the terrene smut and smother,

In the colours shaded off thee, the suggestions of a soul.

'Yea,' the poet said, 'I smell thee by some passive divination,