Tra-la-la-la-la-la-laire--nil nisi divinum stabile <br /> est; caetera fumus--the gondola stopped, the old <br /> palace was there, how charming its grey and pink-- <br /> goats and monkeys, with such hair too!--so the <br /> countess passed on until she came through the <br /> little park, where Niobe presented her with a <br /> cabinet, and so departed. <br /> <br /> <br />Burbank crossed a little bridge <br />Descending at a small hotel; <br />Princess Volupine arrived, <br />They were together, and he fell. <br /> <br />Defunctive music under sea <br />Passed seaward with the passing bell <br />Slowly: the God Hercules <br />Had left him, that had loved him well. <br /> <br />The horses, under the axletree <br />Beat up the dawn from Istria <br />With even feet. Her shuttered barge <br />Burned on the water all the day. <br /> <br />But this or such was Bleistein's way: <br />A saggy bending of the knees <br />And elbows, with the palms turned out, <br />Chicago Semite Viennese. <br /> <br />A lustreless protrusive eye <br />Stares from the protozoic slime <br />At a perspective of Canaletto. <br />The smoky candle end of time <br /> <br />Declines. On the Rialto once. <br />The rats are underneath the piles. <br />The jew is underneath the lot. <br />Money in furs. The boatman smiles, <br /> <br />Princess Volupine extends <br />A meagre, blue-nailed, phthisic hand <br />To climb the waterstair. Lights, lights, <br />She entertains Sir Ferdinand <br /> <br />Klein. Who clipped the lion's wings <br />And flea'd his rump and pared his claws? <br />Thought Burbank, meditating on <br />Time's ruins, and the seven laws.<br /><br />Thomas Stearns Eliot<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/burbank-with-a-baedeker-bleistein-with-a-cigar/
