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San Miniato by John Sterling 28/12/2010

Posted by florencecapital in Uncategorized.
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John Sterling (1804-1846) was a minor Scottish poet.

While slow on Miniato’s heights I roam,

And backward look to Brunelleschi’s dome,

‘Tis strange to think that here on many a day

Old Michael Angelo has paced his way.

And watching Florence, in his bosom found

A nobler world than that which lies around.

To him, perhaps, the ghost of Dante came

At sunset, with his pride of mournful fame.

By me the twain, the bard and sculptor stand.

With strong lip gazing and uplifted hand.

The great, the sad, fighters in ages past.

With their full peace fill e’en the weak at last 

While slow on Miniato’s heights I roam,

And backward look to Brunelleschi’s dome,

‘Tis strange to think that here on many a day

Old Michael Angelo has paced his way.

And watching Florence, in his bosom found

A nobler world than that which lies around.

To him, perhaps, the ghost of Dante came

At sunset, with his pride of mournful fame.

By me the twain, the bard and sculptor stand.

With strong lip gazing and uplifted hand.

The great, the sad, fighters in ages past.

With their full peace fill e’en the weak at last

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