h, but--ah, but, all the same, 35
No mere mortal has a right
To carry that exalted air;
Best people are not angels quite:
While--not the worst of people's doings scare
The devil; so there's that proud look to spare! 40
Which is mere counsel to myself, mind! for
I have just been the holy Monsignor:
And I was you too, Luigi's gentle mother,
And you too, Luigi!--how that Luigi started
Out of the turret--doubtlessly departed 45
On some good errand or another,
For he passed just now in a traveler's trim,
And the sullen company that prowled
About his path, I noticed, scowled
As if they had lost a prey in him. 50
And I was Jules the sculptor's bride,
And I was Ottima beside,
And now what am I?--tired of fooling.
Day for folly, night for schooling!
New Year's day is over and spent, 55
Ill or well, I must be content.
Even my lily's asleep, I vow:
Wake up--here's a friend I've plucked you!
Call this flower a heart's-ease now!
Something rare, let me instruct you, 60
Is this, with petals triply swollen,
Three times spotted, thrice the pollen;
While the leaves and parts that witness
Old proportions and their fitness,
Here remain unchanged, unmoved now; 65
Call this pampered thing improved now!
Suppose there's a king of the flowers
And a girl-show held in his bowers--
"Look ye, buds, this growth of ours,"
Says he, "Zanze from the Brenta, 70
I have made her gorge polenta
Till both cheeks are near as bouncing
As her--name there's no pronouncing!
See this heightened color too,
For she swilled Breganze wine 75
Till her nose turned deep carmine;
'Twas but white when wild she grew.
And only by this Zanze's eyes
Of which we could not change the size,
The magnitude of all achieved 80
Otherwise, may be perceived."

Oh, what a drear, dark close to my poor day!
How could that red sun drop in that black cloud?
Ah, Pippa, morning's rule is moved away,
Dispensed with, never more to be allowed! 85
Day's turn is over, now arrives the night's.
O lar