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XXVIII。
Margheritone of Arezzo；
With the grave…clothes garb and swaddling barret
（Why purse up mouth and beak in a pet so；
You bald old saturnine poll…clawed parrot？）
Not a poor glimmering Crucifixion；
Where in the foreground kneels the donor？
If such remain； as is my conviction；
The hoarding it does you but little honour。
XXIX。
They pass； for them the panels may thrill；
The tempera grow alive and tinglish；
Their pictures are left to the mercies still
Of dealers and stealers； Jews and the English；
Who； seeing mere money's worth in their prize；
Will sell it to somebody calm as Zeno
At naked High Art； and in ecstasies
Before some clay…cold vile Carlino！
XXX。
No matter for these！ But Giotto； you；
Have you allowed； as the town…tongues babble it；…
Oh； never！ it shall not be counted true…
That a certain precious little tablet
Which Buonarroti eyed like a lover；…
Was buried so long in oblivion's womb
And； left for another than I to discover；
Turns up at last！ and to whom？…to whom？
XXXI。
I； that have haunted the dim San Spirito；
（Or was it rather the Ognissanti？）
Patient on altar…step planting a weary toe！
Nay； I shall have it yet！ _Detur amanti！_
My Koh…i…noor…or （if that's a platitude）
Jewel of Giamschid； the Persian Sofi's eye
So； in anticipative gratitude；
What if I take up my hope and prophesy？
XXXII。
When the hour grows ripe； and a certain dotard
Is pitched； no parcel that needs invoicing；
To the worse side of the Mont Saint Gothard；
We shall begin by way of rejoicing；
None of that shooting the sky （blank cartridge）；
Nor a civic guard； all plumes and lacquer；
Hunting Radetzky's soul like a partridge
Over Morello with squib and cracker。
XXXIII。
This time we'll shoot better game and bag 'em hot…
No mere display at the stone of Dante；
But a kind of sober Witanagemot
（Ex： ‘‘Casa Guidi；'' _quod videas ante_）
Shall ponder； once Freedom restored to Florence；
How Art may return that departed with her。
Go； hated house； go each trace of the Loraine's；
And bring us the days of Orgagna hither！
XXXIV。
How we shall prologize； how we shall perorate；
Utter fit things upon art and history；
Feel truth at blood…heat and falsehood at zero rate；
Make of the want of the age no mystery；
Contrast the fructuous and sterile eras；
Show…monarchy ever its uncouth cub licks
Out of the bear's shape into Chimra's；
While Pure Art's birth is still the republic's。
XXXV。
Then one shall propose in a speech （curt Tuscan；
Expurgate and sober； with scarcely an ‘‘_issimo；_''）
To end now our half…told tale of Cambuscan；
And turn the bell…tower's _alt_ to _altissimo_：
And fine as the beak of a young beccaccia
The Campanile； the Duomo's fit ally；
Shall soar up in gold full fifty braccia；
Completing Florence； as Florence Italy。
XXXVI。
Shall I be alive that morning the scaffold
Is broken away； and the long…pent fire；
Like the golden hope of the world； unbaffled
Springs from its sleep； and up goes the spire
While ‘‘God and the People'' plain for its motto；
Thence the new tricolour flaps at the sky？
At least to foresee that glory of Giotto
And Florence together； the first am I！
* 1 A sculptor； died 1278。
* 2 Died 1455。 Designed the bronze gates of the Baptistry at Florence。
* 3 A painter； died 1498。
* 4 The son of Fr Lippo Lippi。 Wronged； because some of his
* pictures have been attributed to others。
* 5 Died 1366。 One of Giotto's pupils and assistants。
* 6 Rough cast。
* 7 Painter； sculptor； and goldsmith。
* 8 Distemper…mixture of water and egg yolk。
* 9 Sculptor and architect； died 1313…
*10 All Saints。
*11 A Florentine painter； died 1576。
*12 Tartar king。
*13 A woodcock
‘‘DE GUSTIBUS…''
I。
Your ghost will walk； you lover of trees；
（If our loves remain）
In an English lane；
By a cornfield…side a…flutter with poppies。
Hark； those two in the hazel coppice…
A boy and a girl； if the good fates please；
Making love； say；…
The happier they！
Draw yourself up from the light of the moon；
And let them pass； as they will too soon；
With the bean…flowers' boon；
And the blackbird's tune；
And May； and June！
II。
What I love best in all the world
Is a castle； precipice…encurled；
In a gash of the wind…grieved Apennine
Or look for me； old fellow of mine；
（If I get my head from out the mouth
O' the grave； and loose my spirit's bands；
And come again to the land of lands）…
In a sea…side house to the farther South；
Where the baked cicala dies of drouth；
And one sharp tree…'tis a cypress…stands；
By the many hundred years red…rusted；
Rough iron…spiked； ripe fruit…o'ercrusted；
My sentinel to guard the sands
To the water's edge。 For； what expands
Before the house； but the great opaque
Blue breadth of sea without a break？
While； in the house； for ever crumbles
Some fragment of the frescoed walls；
From blisters where a scorpion sprawls。
A girl bare…footed brings； and tumbles
Down on the pavement； green…flesh melons；
And says there's news to…day…the king
Was shot at； touched in the liver…wing；
Goes with his Bourbon arm in a sling：
…She hopes they have not caught the felons。
Italy； my Italy！
Queen Mary's saying serves for me…
（When fortune's malice
Lost her…Calais）…
Open my heart and you will see
Graved inside of it； ‘‘Italy。''
Such lovers old are I and she：
So it always was； so shall ever be！
HOME…THOUGHTS； FROM ABROAD。
I。
Oh； to be in England
Now that April's there；
And whoever wakes in England
Sees； some morning； unaware；
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm…tree bole are in tiny leaf；
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England…now！！
II。
And after April； when May follows；
And the whitethroat builds； and all the swallows！
Hark； where my blossomed pear…tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops…at the bent spray's edge…