Up At A Villa--down In The City Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Had I but plenty of money money enough and to spare	A
The house for me no doubt were a house in the city square	A
Ah such a life such a life as one leads at the window there	A
	-
Something to see by Bacchus something to hear at least	B
There the whole day long one's life is a perfect feast	B
While up at a villa one lives I maintain it no more than a beast	B
	-
Well now look at our villa stuck like the horn of a bull	C
Just on a mountain edge as bare as the creature's skull	D
Save a mere shag of a bush with hardly a leaf to pull	C
I scratch my own sometimes to see if the hair's turned wool	C
	-
But the city oh the city the square with the houses Why	E
They are stone faced white as a curd there's something to take the eye	E
Houses in four straight lines not a single front awry	E
You watch who crosses and gossips who saunters who hurries by	E
Green blinds as a matter of course to draw when the sun gets high	E
And the shops with fanciful signs which are painted properly	F
	-
What of a villa Though winter be over in March by rights	G
'Tis May perhaps ere the snow shall have withered well off the heights	G
You've the brown ploughed land before where the oxen steam and wheeze	H
And the hills over smoked behind by the faint gray olive trees	H
	-
Is it better in May I ask you You've summer all at once	I
In a day he leaps complete with a few strong April suns	J
'Mid the sharp short emerald wheat scarce risen three fingers well	K
The wild tulip at end of its tube blows out its great red bell	K
Like a thin clear bubble of blood for the children to pick and sell	K
	-
Is it ever hot in the square There's a fountain to spout and splash	L
In the shade it sings and springs in the shine such foambows flash	L
On the horses with curling fish tails that prance and paddle and pash	L
Round the lady atop in her conch fifty gazers do not abash	L
Though all that she wears is some weeds round her waist in a sort of sash	L
	-
All the year long at the villa nothing to see though you linger	M
Except yon cypress that points like death's lean lifted forefinger	M
Some think fireflies pretty when they mix in the corn and mingle	D
Or thrid the stinking hemp till the stalks of it seem a tingle	D
Late August or early September the stunning cicala is shrill	N
And the bees keep their tiresome whine round the resinous firs on the hill	N
Enough of the seasons I spare you the months of the fever and chill	N
	-
Ere you open your eyes in the city the blessed church bells begin	O
No sooner the bells leave off than the diligence rattles in	O
You get the pick of the news and it costs you never a pin	O
By and by there's the travelling doctor gives pills lets blood draws teeth	P
Or the Pulcinello trumpet breaks up the market beneath	P
At the post office such a scene picture the new play piping hot	Q
And a notice how only this morning three liberal thieves were shot	Q
	-
Above it behold the Archbishop's most fatherly of rebukes	R
And beneath with his crown and his lion some little new law of the Duke's	R
Or a sonnet with flowery marge to the Reverend Don So and so	S
Who is Dante Boccaccio Petrarca Saint Jerome and Cicero	S
And moreover the sonnet goes rhyming the skirts of Saint Paul has reached	T
Having preached us those six Lent lectures more unctuous than ever he preached	T
Noon strikes here sweeps the procession our Lady borne smiling and smart	U
With a pink gauze gown all spangles and seven swords stuck in her heart	U
Bang whang whang goes the drum tootle te tootle the fife	V
No keeping one's haunches still it's the greatest pleasure in life	V
	-
But bless you it's dear it's dear fowls wine at double the rate	W
They have clapped a new tax upon salt and what oil pays passing the gate	W
It's a horror to think of And so the villa for me not the city	F
Beggars can scarcely be choosers but still ah the pity the pity	F
Look two and two go the priests then the monks with cowls and sandals	X
And the penitents dressed in white shirts a holding the yellow candles	X
One he carries a flag up straight and another a cross with handles	X
And the Duke's guard brings up the rear for the better prevention of scandals	X
Bang whang whang goes the drum tootle te tootle the fife	V
Oh a day in the city square there is no such pleasure in life	V

Robert Browning

Up At A Villa--down In The City Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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