Tra-la-la-la-la-la-laire--nil nisi divinum stabile br est; caetera fumus--the gondola stopped, the old br palace was there, how charming its grey and pink-- br goats and monkeys, with such hair too!--so the br countess passed on until she came through the br little park, where Niobe presented her with a br cabinet, and so departed. br br br Burbank crossed a little bridge br Descending at a small hotel; br Princess Volupine arrived, br They were together, and he fell. br br Defunctive music under sea br Passed seaward with the passing bell br Slowly: the God Hercules br Had left him, that had loved him well. br br The horses, under the axletree br Beat up the dawn from Istria br With even feet. Her shuttered barge br Burned on the water all the day. br br But this or such was Bleistein's way: br A saggy bending of the knees br And elbows, with the palms turned out, br Chicago Semite Viennese. br br A lustreless protrusive eye br Stares from the protozoic slime br At a perspective of Canaletto. br The smoky candle end of time br br Declines. On the Rialto once. br The rats are underneath the piles. br The jew is underneath the lot. br Money in furs. The boatman smiles, br br Princess Volupine extends br A meagre, blue-nailed, phthisic hand br To climb the waterstair. Lights, lights, br She entertains Sir Ferdinand br br Klein. Who clipped the lion's wings br And flea'd his rump and pared his claws? br Thought Burbank, meditating on br Time's ruins, and the seven laws.