VILLA TASCA
If Love could build a place for pure delight
’Twould be like this—pink marble, stone-white lace,
Within a garden grave and gay, kind both to bird and flower,
With friendly paths, curved, perfume-bordered ways,
And plaintive settles princely lover chose;
With water-mirrors, with the fountain’s spray.
Some lovely, ancient land like Sicily,
Since centuries alone make gardens rich—
Caprices, memories—royal death—and love.