And lo, as my serener soul
Did these unhappy shores patrol,
And wait with an attentive ear
The coming of the gondolier,
Your fire-surviving roll I took,
Your spirited and happy book; (1)
Whereon, despite my frowning fate,
It did my soul so recreate
That all my fancies fled away
On a Venetian holiday.

Now, thanks to your triumphant care,
Your pages clear as April air,
The sails, the bells, the birds, I know,
And the far-off Friulan snow;
The land and sea, the sun and shade,
And the blue even lamp-inlaid.
For this, for these, for all, O friend,
For your whole book from end to end -
For Paron Piero's muttonham -
I your defaulting debtor am.

Perchance, reviving, yet may I
To your sea-paven city hie,
And in FELZE, some day yet
Light at your pipe my cigarette.

(1) LIFE ON THE LAGOONS, by H. F. Brown, originally
burned in the fire at