I chanced upon a new book yesterday; <br />I opened it, and, where my finger lay <br />'Twixt page and uncut page, these words I read - <br />Some six or seven at most - and learned thereby <br />That you, Fitzgerald, whom by ear and eye <br />She never knew, "thanked God my wife was dead." <br />Aye, dead! and were yourself alive, good Fitz, <br />How to return you thanks would task my wits. <br />Kicking you seems the common lot of curs - <br />While more appropriate greeting lends you grace, <br />Surely to spit there glorifies your face - <br />Spitting from lips once sanctified by hers.<br /><br />Robert Browning<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-edward-fitzgerald/
