Lorenzo dei Medici
Yet there is one who answered not,
Though I, Lorenzo, went to him—
His soul revolves a subtle plot,
A strong reality and grim,
Conceived 'mongst dreams and visions dim,
Though I, Lorenzo, went to him—
His soul revolves a subtle plot,
A strong reality and grim,
Conceived 'mongst dreams and visions dim,
To overthrow my power. Accurst,
He holds this Florence changed and torn
In shameful depths of sin immersed—
'Beware!' he cries, 'the judgment born,
Oh, slaves, with the approaching morn.'
He holds this Florence changed and torn
In shameful depths of sin immersed—
'Beware!' he cries, 'the judgment born,
Oh, slaves, with the approaching morn.'
A ruined people, from whose tears
God forms strong hosts to burn and scathe,
He sees, and from afar he hears
A visioned army strong to save,
Re-risen from dead Freedom's grave.
God forms strong hosts to burn and scathe,
He sees, and from afar he hears
A visioned army strong to save,
Re-risen from dead Freedom's grave.
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