The Archbishop of Taranto Sent by the Pope to Reside at Naples

Taranto now has lost her guide,
A prelate without prelate's pride.
On that Parthenopean coast
Incredulous of fog or frost,
His Median puss he smiles to see
Leap boldly on a stranger's knee,
And stretch out flat and lick his fur.
And switch his tail, and gape and purr.
O my two friends ! may, many a day.
Both think of me when far away !