Ah me! how many a time my cheek must grow Blanched by those lilies! Shall I then forswear Florence and France through them for evermore? [4] If to the hospital I come, and fair Find the Annunziata limned. I’ll fly: Else shall I show myself a brute beast there. [5] These words flout not Her worshipped sanctity, Nor those Her lilies, glorious, holy, pure, The which illumine earth and heaven high! But for I find at every coign obscure Base lilies which spread hooks where flowers should blow Needs must I fear lest these to ruin lure. [6] To think how many walk like me in woe! Born what, how slaved to serve that hateful sign! Souls lively, graceful, like to gods below! I saw that lethal heraldry decline From heaven like lightning among people vain; Then on the stone I saw strange lustre shine. The castle’s bell must break ere I with strain Thence issued; and these things Who speaketh true In heaven on earth, to me made wondrous plain. [7] Next I beheld a bier of sombre hue Adorned with broken lilies; crosses, tears; And on their beds a lost woe-stricken crew. [8] I saw the Death who racks our souls with fears; This man and that she menaced, while she cried: “I clip the folk who harm thee with these shears!” That worthy one then on my brow wrote wide With Peter’s pen words which-for he bade shun To speak them thrice-within my breast I hide. [9] Him I beheld who drives and checks the sun, Clad with its splendour ‘mid his court on high, Seld-seen by mortal eyes, if e’er by one. [10] Then did a solitary sparrow cry Loud from the keep; hearing which note, I said: “He tells that I shall live and you must die!” I sang, and wrote my hard case, head by head, Asking from god pardon and aid in need, For now If felt mine eyes outworn and dead. Ne’er lion, tiger, wolf, or bear knew greed Hungrier than that man felt for human blood; Nor viper with more venomous fang did feed. [11] The cruel chief was he of robbers’ brood, Worst of the worst among a gang of knaves; Hist! I’ll speak soft lest I be understood! Say, have ye seen catchpolls, the famished slaves, In act a poor man’s homestead to distrain, Smashing down Christs, Madonnas, with their staves? So on the first of August did that train Dislodge me to a tomb more foul, more cold:- “November damns and dooms each rogue to pain!” [12] I at mine ears a trumpet had which told Truth; and each word to them I did repeat, Reckless, if but grief’s load from me were rolled. They, when they saw their final hope retreat, Gave me a diamond, pounded, no fair ring, Deeming that I must die if I should eat.