Iii

This Painter was of opinion Our earth should be his dominion Whose Art could correct to pattern What Nature had slurred--the slattern! And since, beneath the heavens, Things lay now at sixes and sevens, Or, as he said, sopra-sotto-- Thought the painter Pacchiarotto Things wanted reforming, therefore. "Wanted it"--ay, but wherefore? When earth held one so ready As he to step forth, stand steady In the middle of God's creation And prove to demonstration What the dark is, what the light is, What the wrong is, what the right is, What the ugly, what the beautiful, What the restive, what the dutiful, In Mankind profuse around him? Man, devil as now he found him, Would presently soar up angel At the summons of such evangel, And owe--what would Man not owe To the painter Pacchiarotto? Ay, look to thy laurels, Giotto!