How very long since I have thought Concerning--much less wished for--aught Beside the good of Italy, For which I live and mean to die! I never was in love; and since 115 Charles proved false, what shall now convince My inmost heart I have a friend? However, if I pleased to spend Real wishes on myself--say, three-- I know at least what one should be. 120 I would grasp Metternich until I felt his red wet throat distill In blood through these two hands. And next --Nor much for that am I perplexed-- Charles, perjured traitor, for his part, 125 Should die slow of a broken heart Under his new employers. Last --Ah, there, what should I wish? For fast Do I grow old and out of strength. If I resolved to seek at length 130 My father's house again, how scared They all would look, and unprepared! My brothers live in Austria's pay --Disowned me long ago, men say; And all my early mates who used 135 To praise me so--perhaps induced More than one early step of mine-- Are turning wise; while some opine, "Freedom grows license," some suspect, "Haste breeds delay," and recollect 140 They always said, such premature Beginnings never could endure! So, with a sullen "All's for best," The land seems settling to its rest. I think then, I should wish to stand 145 This evening in that dear, lost land, Over the sea the thousand miles, And know if yet that woman smiles With the calm smile; some little farm She lives in there, no doubt; what harm 150 If I sat on the door-side bench, And, while her spindle made a trench Fantastically in the dust, Inquired of all her fortunes--just Her children's ages and their names, 155 And what may be the husband's aims For each of them. I'd talk this out, And sit there, for an hour about, Then kiss her hand once more, and lay Mine on her head, and go my way. 160 So much for idle wishing--how It steals the time! To business now. "ROUND US THE WILD CREATURES" Round us the wild creatures, overhead the trees, Underfoot the moss-tracks--life and love with these! I to wear a fawn-skin, thou to dress in flowers; All the long lone summer day, that greenwood life of ours! Rich-pavilioned, rather--still the world without-- 5 Inside--gold-roofed, silk-walled silence round about! Queen it thou on purple--I, at watch and ward, Couched beneath the columns, gaze, thy slave, love's guard!