XIV
Love, you saw me gather men and women,
130Live or dead or fashioned by my fancy,
Enter each and all, and use their service,
Speak from every mouth,—the speech, a poem.
Hardly shall I tell my joys and sorrows,
Hopes and fears, belief and disbelieving:
I am mine and yours—the rest be all men's,
°[136][Karshish],° Cleon,° Norbert,° and the fifty.
Let me speak this once in my true person,
°[138][Not] as Lippo,° Roland, or Andrea,
Though the fruit of speech be just this sentence:
140Pray you, look on these my men and women,
Take and keep my fifty poems finished;
Where my heart lies, let my brain lie also!
Poor the speech; be how I speak, for all things.