The Bishop Orders His Tomb at Saint Praxed's Church (Rome, 15--)

Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity! Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back? Nephews--sons mine ... ah God, I know not! Well, She, men would have to be your mother once, Old Gandolf envied me, so fair she was! What's done is done, and she is dead beside, Dead long ago, and I am Bishop since. And as she died so must we die ourselves, And thence ye may perceive the world's a dream.…