Poem of Archin

A Poem of Archin
 * - by Archin

I just read a poem written about a fellow during the Victorian period, who reminded me of Archin.   The poem was written of Robert Lowe, by a fellow that didn't like him.  "Here lies poor old Robert Lowe;  Where he's gone to I don't know;  If to the realms of peace and love,  Farewell to happiness above;  If, haply, to some lower level,  We can't congratulate the devil."  I thought I'd just switch some words around and angle it towards my louder half.  It's an epitaph: "Here lies poor old Archin Brey  His mouth finally has been stayed  If the Light be his resting place  Farewell to peace and quiet space; <BR> But if to darkness, he be left <BR> The Legion, forever, rendered deaf"