Became a pastime for

Painters and adulterers.

The Burne-Jones cartons

Have preserved her eyes;

Still, at the Tate, they teach

Cophetua to rhapsodize;

Thin like brook-water,

With a vacant gaze.

The English Rubaiyat was still-born

In those days.

The thin, clear gaze, the same

Still darts out faun-like from the half-ruin’d face,

Questing and passive....

“Ah, poor Jenny’s case” ...

Bewildered that a world

Shows no surprise

At her last maquero’s

Adulteries.

“SIENA MI FE’; DISFEÇEMI MAREMMA”

AMONG the pickled fœtuses and bottled bones,

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