Verse > William Wordsworth > Complete Poetical Works
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MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN ITALY, 1837

XIX. AT FLORENCE

          UNDER the shadow of a stately Pile,
          The dome of Florence, pensive and alone,
          Nor giving heed to aught that passed the while,
          I stood, and gazed upon a marble stone,
          The laurelled Dante's favourite seat. A throne,
          In just esteem, it rivals; though no style
          Be there of decoration to beguile
          The mind, depressed by thought of greatness flown.
          As a true man, who long had served the lyre,
          I gazed with earnestness, and dared no more.                10
          But in his breast the mighty Poet bore
          A Patriot's heart, warm with undying fire.
          Bold with the thought, in reverence I sate down,
          And, for a moment, filled that empty Throne.


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