Only to live, only to be br In Venice, is enough for me. br To be a beggar, and to lie br At home beneath the equal sky, br To feel the sun, to drink the night, br Had been enough for my delight; br Happy because the sun allowed br The luxury of being proud br Not to some only; but to all br The right to lie along the wall. br Here my ambition dies; I ask br No more than some half-idle task, br To be done idly, and to fill br Some gaps of leisure when I will. br I care not if the world forget br That it was ever in my debt; br I care not where its prizes fall; br I long for nothing, having all. br The sun each morning, on his way, br Calls for me at the Zattere; br I wake and greet him, I go out, br Meet him, and follow him about; br We spend the day together, he br Goes to bed early; as for me, br I make the moon my mistress, prove br Constant to my inconstant love. br For she is coy with me, will hie br To my arms amorously, and fly br Ere I have kissed her; ah! but she, br She it is, to eternity, br I adore only; and her smile br Bewilders the enchanted isle br To more celestial magic, glows br At once the crystal and the rose. br The crazy lover of the moon, br I hold her, on the still lagoon, br Sometimes I hold her in my arms; br 'Tis her cold silver kiss that warms br My blood to singing, and puts fire br Into the heart of my desire. br And all desire in Venice dies br To such diviner lunacies. br Life dreams itself: the world goes on, br Oblivious, in oblivion; br Life dreams itself, contents to keep br Happy immortality, in sleep.