Euhenia will have a fonda in Orbajosa.
The amorous nerves will give way to digestive;
“Delight thy soul in fatness,” saith the preacher.
We can’t preserve the elusive “mica salis,”
It may last well in these dark northern climates,
Nell Gwynn’s still here, despite the reformation,
And Edward’s mistresses still light the stage,
A glamour of classic youth in their deportment.
The prudent whore is not without her future,
Her bourgeois dulness is deferred.
Her present dulness....
Oh well, her present dulness....
Now in Venice, ‘Storante al Giardino, I went early,
Saw the performers come: him, her, the baby,
A quiet and respectable-tawdry trio;
An hour later: a show of calves and spangles,
“Un e due fanno tre,”
Night after night,
No change, no change of program, “Chè!
La donna è mobile.”
Homage to Quintus Septimius Florentis Christianus
(Ex libris Graecae)
I
Theodorus will be pleased at my death,
And someone else will be pleased at the death of Theodorus,
And yet everyone speaks evil of death.
II
This place is the Cyprian’s, for she has ever the fancy
To be looking out across the bright sea,
Therefore the sailors are cheered, and the waves
Keep small with reverence, beholding her image.