ST. Tell me what brings you, gentle youth, to Rome?
Y. To make myself a scholar, sir, I come.
ST. And when you are one, what do you intend?
Y. To be a priest, I hope, sir, in the end
ST. Suppose it so,--what have you next in view?
Y. That I may get to be a canon, too.
ST. Well; and how then?
Y. Why, then, for aught I know
I may be made a bishop.
ST. Be it so--
What then?
Y. Why, cardinal's a high degree--
And yet my lot it possibly may be.
ST. Suppose it was, what then?
Y. Why, who can say
But I've a chance of being pope one day?
ST. Well, having worn the mitre and red hat,
And triple crown, what follows after that?
Y. Nay, there is nothing further, to be sure,
Upon this earth that wishing can procure;
When I've enjoyed a dignity so high,
As long as God shall please, then I must die.
ST. What! must you die? fond youth! and at the best
But wish, and hope, and maybe all the rest!
Take my advice--whatever may betide,
For that which must be, first of all provide;
Then think of that which may be, and indeed,
When well prepared, who knows what may succeed?
But you may be, as you are pleased to hope,
Priest, canon, bishop, cardinal, and pope.
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