elousia della bella

what would thou desireth of me? To make me a fool
of your fancy
tying me down to artistic infancy, and loving your victory
by and by?
dost thou not know that I am proud, stubborn thru and thru
dost thou not know that a rose is merely a signature
of a blush dipped in blood,
my dearest
I am much wounded and in need of an antidote,
thou has hurt me to the bone and soul
and I walk club-footed like Byron.
Pity me you must, please no more
much is much too much to bear
and infamy strikes hard upon the foot of my reputation,
angels swim with stars and talk of you,
please do not throw me to the ends of death,
s'il vous plais
della elousia bella.