To a Friend at Florence

Your steady impulse foreign climes to view,
To study nature, and what art can shew,
I now approve, while my warm fancy walks
O'er Italy, and with your genius talks;
We trace, with glowing breast and piercing look,
The curious gall'ry of th' illustrious duke,
Where all those masters of the arts divine,
With pencils, pens, and chissels greatly shine,
Immortalizing the Augustan age,
On medals, canvas, stone, or written page.
Profiles and busts originals express,
And antique scrolls, old ere we knew the press.
For 's love to science, and each virtuous Scot,
May days unnumber'd be great Cosmus' lot!

The sweet Hesperian fields you 'll next explore,
'Twixt Arno's banks and Tiber's fertile shore.
Now, now I wish my organs could keep pace,
With my fond muse and you these plains to trace;
We 'd enter Rome with an uncommon taste,
And feed our minds on every famous waste;
Amphitheatres, columns, royal tombs,
Triumphal arches, ruins of vast domes,
Old aerial aqueducts, and strong-pav'd roads,
Which seem to 've been not wrought by men but gods.

These view'd, we 'd then survey with utmost care
What modern Rome produces fine or rare;
Where buildings rise with all the strength of art,
Proclaiming their great architect's desert.
Which citron shades surround and jessamin,
And all the soul of Raphael shines within.
Then we 'd regale our ears with sounding notes
Which warble tuneful thro' the beardless throats,
Join'd with the vibrating harmonious strings,
And breathing tubes, while the soft eunuch sings.

Of all those dainties take a hearty meal;
But let your resolution still prevail:
Return, before your pleasure grow a toil,
To longing friends, and your own native soil:
Preserve your health, your virtue still improve,
Hence you 'll invite protection from above.
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