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TO STEFANO COLONNA THE ELDER, INVITING HIM TO THE COUNTRY.
Glorious Colonna! still the strength and stay / Of our best hopes, and the great Latin name / Whom power could never from the true right way / Seduce by flattery or by terror tame: / No palace, theatres, nor arches here, / But, in their stead, the fir, the beech, and pine / On the green sward, with the fair mountain near / Paced to and fro by poet friend of thine; / Thus unto heaven the soul from earth is caught; / While Philomel, who sweetly to the shade / The livelong night her desolate lot complains, / Fills the soft heart with many an amorous thought: / Ah! why is so rare good imperfect made / While severed from us still my lord remains.