Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . still there my past life lies, why alter it ?The very wrong to Francis ! it is trueI took his coin, was tempted and built this house and sinned, and all is father and my mother died of , had I riches of my own ? you seeHow one gets rich ! Let each one bear his were born poor, lived poor, and poor they died :And I have laboured somewhat in my time 298 ANDREA DEL SARTO And not been paid profusely. Some good son Paint my two hundred pictures—let him try! No doubt, theres something strike
Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . still there my past life lies, why alter it ?The very wrong to Francis ! it is trueI took his coin, was tempted and built this house and sinned, and all is father and my mother died of , had I riches of my own ? you seeHow one gets rich ! Let each one bear his were born poor, lived poor, and poor they died :And I have laboured somewhat in my time 298 ANDREA DEL SARTO And not been paid profusely. Some good son Paint my two hundred pictures—let him try! No doubt, theres something strikes a balance. Yes, You loved me quite enough, it seems to-night. This must suffice me here. What would one have ? In heaven, perhaps, new chances, one more chance— Four great walls in the New Jerusalem Meted on each side by the angels reed, For Leonard, Rafael, Angelo and me To cover—the three first without a wife, •( While I have mine ! So—still they overcome \ Because there s still Lucrezia,—as I choose. Again the Cousins whistle! Go, my 299 BEFORE BEFORE them fight it out, friend ! things have gone too must judge the couple! leave them as they are—Whichever one s the guiltless, to his glory,And whichever one the guilts with, to my story. IIWhy, you would not bid men, sunk in such a no arm out further, stick and stink as right and wrong to settle the embroilment,Heaven with snaky Hell, in torture and entoilment? IllWhich of them s the culprit, how must he conceiveGod s the queen he caps to, laughing in his sleeve!Tis but decent to profess oneself beneath , one must not be too much in earnest either. IV Better sin the whole sin, sure that God observes,Then go live his life out ! life will try his nerves,When the sky which noticed all, makes no the earth keeps up her terrible composure. VLet him pace at pleasure, past the walls of rose,Pluck their fruits when grape-trees graze him as he
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