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Its soft meandering Spanish name：
What a name！ Was it love or praise？
Speech half…asleep or song half…awake？
I must learn Spanish； one of these days；
Only for that slow sweet name's sake。
IV。
Roses； if I live and do well；
I may bring her； one of these days；
To fix you fast with as fine a spell；
Fit you each with his Spanish phrase；
But do not detain me now； for she lingers
There； like sunshine over the ground；
And ever I see her soft white fingers
Searching after the bud she found。
V。
Flower； you Spaniard； look that you grow not；
Stay as you are and be loved for ever！
Bud； if I kiss you 'tis that you blow not：
Mind； the shut pink mouth opens never！
For while it pouts； her fingers wrestle；
Twinkling the audacious leaves between；
Till round they turn and down they nestle…
Is not the dear mark still to be seen？
VI。
Where I find her not； beauties vanish；
Whither I follow ber； beauties flee；
Is there no method to tell her in Spanish
June's twice June since she breathed it with me？
Come； bud； show me the least of her traces；
Treasure my lady's lightest footfall！
…Ah； you may flout and turn up your faces…
Roses； you are not so fair after all！
II。 SIBRANDUS SCHAFNABURGENSIS。
Plague take all your pedants； say I！
He who wrote what I hold in my hand；
Centuries back was so good as to die；
Leaving this rubbish to cumber the land；
This； that was a book in its time；
Printed on paper and bound in leather；
Last month in the white of a matin…prime
Just when the birds sang all together。
II。
Into the garden I brought it to read；
And under the arbute and laurustine
Read it； so help me grace in my need；
From title…page to closing line。
Chapter on chapter did I count；
As a curious traveller counts Stonehenge；
Added up the mortal amount；
And then proceeded to my revenge。
III。
Yonder's a plum…tree with a crevice
An owl would build in； were he but sage；
For a lap of moss； like a fine pont…levis
In a castle of the Middle Age；
Joins to a lip of gum； pure amber；
When he'd be private； there might he spend
Hours alone in his lady's chamber：
Into this crevice I dropped our friend。
IV。
Splash； went he； as under he ducked；
…At the bottom； I knew； rain…drippings stagnate：
Next； a handful of blossoms I plucked
To bury him with； my bookshelf's magnate；
Then I went in…doors； brought out a loaf；
Half a cheese； and a bottle of Chablis；
Lay on the grass and forgot the oaf
Over a jolly chapter of Rabelais。
V。
Now； this morning； betwixt the moss
And gum that locked our friend in limbo；
A spider had spun his web across；
And sat in the midst with arms akimbo：
So； I took pity； for learning's sake；
And； _de profundis； accentibus ltis；
Cantate！_ quoth I； as I got a rake；
And up I fished his delectable treatise。
VI。
Here you have it； dry in the sun；
With all the binding all of a blister；
And great blue spots where the ink has run；
And reddish streaks that wink and glister
O'er the page so beautifully yellow：
Oh； well have the droppings played their tricks！
Did he guess how toadstools grow； this fellow？
Here's one stuck in his chapter six！
VII。
How did he like it when the live creatures
Tickled and toused and browsed him all over；
And worm； slug； eft； with serious features；
Came in； each one； for his right of trover？
…When the water…beetle with great blind deaf face
Made of her eggs the stately deposit；
And the newt borrowed just so much of the preface
As tiled in the top of his black wife's closet？
VIII。
All that life and fun and romping；
All that frisking and twisting and coupling；
While slowly our poor friend's leaves were swamping
And clasps were cracking and covers suppling！
As if you bad carried sour John Knox
To the play…house at Paris； Vienna or Munich；
Fastened him into a front…row box；
And danced off the ballet with trousers and tunic。
IX。
Come； old martyr！ What； torment enough is it？
Back to my room shall you take your sweet self。
Good…bye； mother…beetle； husband…eft； _sufficit！_
See the snug niche I have made on my shelf！
A。's book shall prop you up； B。's shall cover you；
Here's C。 to be grave with； or D。 to be gay；
And with E。 on each side； and F。 right over you；
Dry…rot at ease till the Judgment…day！
SOLILOQUY OF THE SPANISH CLOISTER。
I。
Gr…r…r…there go； my heart's abhorrence！
Water your damned flower…pots； do！
If hate killed men； Brother Lawrence；
God's blood； would not mine kill you！
What？ your myrtle…bush wants trimming？
Oh； that rose has prior claims…
Needs its leaden vase filled brimming？
Hell dry you up with its flames！
II。
At the meal we sit together：
_Salve tibi！_ I must hear
Wise talk of the kind of weather；
Sort of season； time of year：
_Not a plenteous cork…crop： scarcely
Dare we hope oak…galls； I doubt：
What's the Latin name for ‘‘parsley''？_
What's the Greek name for Swine's Snout？
III。
Whew！ We'll have our platter burnished；
Laid with care on our own shelf！
With a fire…new spoon we're furnished；
And a goblet for ourself；
Rinsed like something sacrificial
Ere 'tis fit to touch our chaps…
Marked with L。 for our initial！
（He…he！ There his lily snaps！）
IV。
_Saint_； forsooth！ While brown Dolores
Squats outside the Convent bank
With Sanchicha； telling stories；
Steeping tresses in the tank；
Blue…black； lustrous； thick like horsehairs；
…Can't I see his dead eye glow；
Bright as 'twere a Barbary corsair's？
（That is； if he'd let it show！）
V。
When he finishes refection；
Knife and fork he never lays
Cross…wise； to my recollection；
As do I； in Jesu's praise。
I the Trinity illustrate；
Drinking watered orange…pulp…
In three sips the Arian frustrate；
While he drains his at one gulp。
VI。
Oh； those melons？ If he's able
We're to have a feast！ so nice！
One go