The Tower of Babel | ||
252
A TUSCULAN QUESTION.
I
One day as on an ass I rode,By many a twisting gully,
To where once stood the famed abode
Of philosophic Tully,
II
A shepherd lad with hat aslouchWas singing to his flock O;
I pulled my money from my pouch,
And chucked him a baiocco.
III
A moment gone, and with his psalmThe hills and woods were ringing;
But when the copper touched his palm,
Sudden he ceased his singing.
253
IV
Ah! like to bees that cease to hum,When pressing on for honey,
So doth the singing soul grow dumb,
Intent on clogging money.
V
Kind Heaven! forbid that ever IShould sink in golden torpor!
If, living, I may sing, I'll die
Contentedly a pauper.
Frascati,May 1863.
The Tower of Babel | ||