Lorenzo de’ Medici (1449–1492)

Translated by William Roscoe

AH, pearly drops, that pouring from those eyes

Spoke the dissolving cloud of soft desire!

What time cold sorrow chilled the genial fire,

Struck the fair urns and bade the waters rise;

Soft down those cheeks, whose native crimson vies

With ivory whiteness, see the crystals throng;

As some clear river winds its stream along,

Bathing the flowers of pale and purple dyes,—

While Love, rejoicing in the amorous shower,

Stands like some bird, that after sultry heat

Enjoys the drops, and shakes his glittering wings,—

Then grasps his bolt, and, conscious of his power,

’Mid those bright orbs assumes his wonted seat,

And thro’ the lucid shower his living lightning flings.