Those classic scenes their pride so richly graced,
Temples of genius, palaces of taste,
Too long, with sad and desolated mien,
Reveal’d where Conquest’s lawless track had been;
Reft of each form with brighter light imbued,
Lonely they frown’d, a desert solitude.
Florence! th’ Oppressor’s noon of pride is o’er,
Rise in thy pomp again, and weep no more!
As one who, starting at the dawn of day
From dark illusions, phantoms of dismay,