Robert Browning

"Heap Cassia, Sandal

Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes
 Of labdanum, and aloe-balls,
Smeared with dull nard an Indian wipes
 From out her hair: such balsam falls
 Down sea-side mountain pedestals,
From tree-tops where tired winds are fain,
Spent with the vast and howling main,
To treasure half their island-gain.
 
And strew faint sweetness from some old
 Egyptian’s fine worm-eaten shroud
Which breaks to dust when once unrolled;
 Or shredded perfume, like a cloud
 From closet long to quiet vowed,
With mothed and dropping arras hung,
Mouldering her lute and books among,
As when a queen, long dead, was young.
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