 | The Unknown Madonna and Other Poems |  |
34
TO FLORENCE.
For the unveiling of the new façade, May, 1887.
IMPROMPTU.
The strife is dead, the ramparts' ring
Is a flowery path for feet of spring,
The old gates never close,
And well the Lily City rests
Between the hills' divided crests
Through which her Arno flows.
Is a flowery path for feet of spring,
The old gates never close,
And well the Lily City rests
Between the hills' divided crests
Through which her Arno flows.
The strife is dead, the broad-flagged street
Recoils no more from armoured feet,
The towers are all laid low,
For White and Black have long been one,
As sunset after setting sun,
And friend was laid with foe.
Recoils no more from armoured feet,
The towers are all laid low,
For White and Black have long been one,
As sunset after setting sun,
And friend was laid with foe.
A people's love returns to thee,
Who first of cities learned to be
A nation and a name,
Who never bowed the head to fate,
And bore the harvest of thy great
To gratitude and fame!
Who first of cities learned to be
A nation and a name,
35
And bore the harvest of thy great
To gratitude and fame!
For Rome is like some mighty wraith
Reincarnate by a nation's faith,
But Florence did not die!
She earned her peace in ample tears,
And rests upon the stormless years
With passion long put by.
Reincarnate by a nation's faith,
But Florence did not die!
She earned her peace in ample tears,
And rests upon the stormless years
With passion long put by.
But still the spirit is not spent
That bade the Ghibelline relent
To save her from her doom;
The love that softened Dante's eye
For Farinata's agony,
Fire-tortured in his tomb:
That bade the Ghibelline relent
To save her from her doom;
The love that softened Dante's eye
For Farinata's agony,
Fire-tortured in his tomb:
The spirit which in the day of need
Was greater than the merchant greed,
And armed her for the fray,
When stern Ferruccio hacked and hewed
And died among his hero brood
On Gavinana's day.
Was greater than the merchant greed,
And armed her for the fray,
When stern Ferruccio hacked and hewed
And died among his hero brood
On Gavinana's day.
36
The spirit which decreed the shrine,
That old Arnolfo's dim design
First planned for Florence free,
That Donatello decked and gemmed,
And Brunellescho diademmed,
And Giotto, ah, but he!
That old Arnolfo's dim design
First planned for Florence free,
That Donatello decked and gemmed,
And Brunellescho diademmed,
And Giotto, ah, but he!
He set the marble marvel high
Against the limpid Tuscan sky,
The tower of all the towers,
Her glory and her sentinel
With chime and ave warding well
Our Lady of the Flowers.
Against the limpid Tuscan sky,
The tower of all the towers,
Her glory and her sentinel
With chime and ave warding well
Our Lady of the Flowers.
And now glad bells ring out to-day,
Ring far down Arno vale away,
To the mountain citadels:
Let Prato's to Pistoia call,
And let Pistoia's battle-wall
Re-echo with the bells!
Ring far down Arno vale away,
To the mountain citadels:
Let Prato's to Pistoia call,
And let Pistoia's battle-wall
Re-echo with the bells!
For where the old ambition failed
The love of after years availed
Worked with as prayerful hands,
And Florence has her shrine at last,
The shrine she purposed, unsurpassed
In all the alien lands:
The love of after years availed
Worked with as prayerful hands,
37
The shrine she purposed, unsurpassed
In all the alien lands:
Fair delicate spiral shafts and rose
Of window tracing and repose
Of saints in solemn row,
And wealth of jewels set in gold,
And fretted carvings manifold
Of marble white as snow!
Of window tracing and repose
Of saints in solemn row,
And wealth of jewels set in gold,
And fretted carvings manifold
Of marble white as snow!
Oh, hero dead, from your happy isle
I think that you look back and smile
The exile heart returns,
For never dead were held more dear,
And pilgrim nations reverence here
Your cenotaphs and urns.
I think that you look back and smile
The exile heart returns,
For never dead were held more dear,
And pilgrim nations reverence here
Your cenotaphs and urns.
Her work of years is done to-day,
And watching in their long array
Her mighty sons rejoice:
The last upon the scroll of Fate,
De Fabris, from the silent gate
Leans back to hear her voice.
And watching in their long array
Her mighty sons rejoice:
The last upon the scroll of Fate,
De Fabris, from the silent gate
Leans back to hear her voice.
38
Dear city of the hills, well done!
Smile on beneath the fair May sun
In calm and conscious pride,
The fairest city built of hands
In recollection's loveliest lands
By silver Arno's side!
Smile on beneath the fair May sun
In calm and conscious pride,
The fairest city built of hands
In recollection's loveliest lands
By silver Arno's side!
A nation's effort is their prayer,
And thine shall rise on this spring air
Beyond the blue above,
Worthy of Florence, Florence free,
Worthy of Florence, Italy,
And worthy all men's love.
And thine shall rise on this spring air
Beyond the blue above,
Worthy of Florence, Florence free,
Worthy of Florence, Italy,
And worthy all men's love.
Florence, 1887.
| The Unknown Madonna and Other Poems | |