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In praise of the Glorious Saint Bartholomew Apostle To the Most Eminent and Most Reverend Lord Lord Cardinal Christofaro Vidman Sonnet Giuseppe Bugada D.D.D. (Donat, Dicat, Dedicat/ Gave, Recited, Dedicated)

Of Borea of turbid blows In the hour, when the soil of cold snow it inundates The oak tree derided by gelid darings Of the green foliage the uncultivated front it prunes.

But if the mild season with shiny hands Returns to the green the flowers, the flow to the wave, Shaken from the womb the horrid whitish ice, Of more refulgent varnish the foliage surrounds.

So you too, Bartholomew, of kingly longings Going with vengeful brave contempt So as not to lose Faith, you lose the corps.

But what? As the winter deprived of his rigors, Immortal plant of heavenly leaves You wear of rich stars an eternal mantle.

IN ROME, for the heirs of Corbelletti, 1660 With permission of the Superiors