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,