Poems
Lorenzo, the Magnificent—
Thus have men called me, and the sound
Poets in songs sublime have blent,
And throbbing echoes spread around
This name wherewith my worth is crowned.
Thus have men called me, and the sound
Poets in songs sublime have blent,
And throbbing echoes spread around
This name wherewith my worth is crowned.
Yet since no man can wholly rest—
Nay scarce the gods themselves can be
Quiescent, every care supprest
In absolute felicity—
A shadow watches over me.
Nay scarce the gods themselves can be
Quiescent, every care supprest
In absolute felicity—
A shadow watches over me.
Though I am arbiter and lord
Of Florence, and before mine eyes
Throng splendid hosts of song and sword,
All things desirable and wise
Which the high gods immortalise,
Of Florence, and before mine eyes
Throng splendid hosts of song and sword,
All things desirable and wise
Which the high gods immortalise,
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