The twenty volumes slumber in a heap,The ballad among heirlooms lives enrolled.
Lordly oration thronged the sculptured roof,And pamphleteered in plaudits through the town;The charlatan proclaimed his draughts and pills,And tossed the crowd his woodcuts and his bills;From rhetoric's remains Time flies aloof,And hears the quack still pattering to the clown.
Voluptuous canvas! Venus in May-bloom,Sunshine of vital gold, faun-twinkling groves,Harmonious limbs and volant veils, go mourn;For you will lie with fire, while Time has borneThe blue-daubed frigate from the servants' roomTo swell the mad collection of his loves.
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