HEAP cassia, sandal-buds and stripes <br /> Of labdanum, and aloe-balls, <br />Smear'd with dull nard an Indian wipes <br /> From out her hair: such balsam falls <br /> Down sea-side mountain pedestals, <br />From tree-tops where tired winds are fain, <br />Spent with the vast and howling main, <br />To treasure half their island-gain. <br /> <br />And strew faint sweetness from some old <br /> Egyptian's fine worm-eaten shroud <br />Which breaks to dust when once unroll'd; <br /> Or shredded perfume, like a cloud <br /> From closet long to quiet vow'd, <br />With moth'd and dropping arras hung, <br />Mouldering her lute and books among, <br />As when a queen, long dead, was young.<br /><br />Robert Browning<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-from-paracelsus/
