 | Fra Cipolla, and other poems |  |
98
WRITTEN UNDER THE PINE IN THE COLONNA GARDEN, ROME.
un pino
Fra l'herba verde, e'l bel monte vicino
Onde si scende poetando.
Petrarca.
Fra l'herba verde, e'l bel monte vicino
Onde si scende poetando.
Petrarca.
Glorious Colonna, whom Petrarca served
With poet-love, and saw in thee the name
Of Italy upheld, and his own fame
Blended with that so long by thee deserved,
Until whate'er men knew of worth and honour
Was measured by the standard of Colonna:
Here spreads a loftier pine, than by the curved
Valchiusa sprung to greet him: shadowing
Thine empty halls, thy temple ivy-curled.
Alas! it is the old age of the world,
But to thy memories I make offering:
For ever in my heart, where'er I go,
I bear those brave words of old Stephano—
Him to my thought did Rome's first aspect bring.
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