The crowd it frolics, shouts and sings,
Disturbs Rome's usual quiet;
Mad folly high her banner swings,
And thronging masks run riot.
Now up and down the Corso pace
Gay coaches 'mid wild showers;
The Carnival's great sport takes place,
The fight with chalk and flowers.
Confetti and fair roses fly,
Bouquets are thickly raining.