Where streams of sulphur raise a stifling heat,
And thro’ the pores of the warm pumice sweat;
You taste the cooling breeze where, nearer home,
The twentieth pillar marks the mile from Rome.
And now the Sun to the bright Lion turns,
And Baia with redoubled fury burns;
Then briny seas and tasteful springs, farewell,
Where fountain Nymphs confused with Naiads dwell.
In winter you may all the world despise,
But now ’tis Tivoli that bears the prize.