Delicate, immutable,
Which rises higher than the moon,
More everlasting than the fading sky,
Joining What-was-not with What-might-have-been,
That bridge were named "Today"
If I had loved you, Take San,
If you had loved me.

An Italian Chest
(Lorenzo Designs a Bas-Relief)

Lust is the oldest lion of them all
And he shall have first place,
With a malignant growl, satirical,
To curve in foliations prodigal
Round and around his face,
Extending till the echoes interlace
With Pride and Prudence, two cranes, gaunt and tall.

Four lesser lions crouch and malign the cranes,
Cursing and gossiping they shake their manes
While from their long tongues leak
Drops of thin venom as they speak.
The cranes, unmoved, peck grapes and grains
From a huge cornucopia, which rains
A plenteous meal from its antique
Interior (a note quite curiously Greek).

And nine long serpents twist
And twine, twist and twine,