look over the near olives across
the valley to the hill of cypresses, to the poplars beside Arno that
tremble with joy; and first I shall see Torre del Gallo and then S.
Miniato, that strange and beautiful place, and at last my eyes will rest
on the city herself, beautiful in the mist of morning: first the tower
of S. Croce, like a tufted spear; then the tower of Liberty, and that
was built for pride; and at last, like a mysterious rose lifted above
the city, I shall see the dome, the rosy dome of Brunellesco, beside
which, like a slim lily, pale, immaculate as a pure virgin, rises the
inviolate Tower of the Lowly, that Giotto built for God. Yes, often I
shall thus await the Angelus that the bells of all the villages will
answer, and I shall greet the sun and be thankful. Then I shall walk
under the olives, I shall weigh the promised grapes, I shall bend the
ears of corn here and there, that I may feel their beauty, and I shall
bury my face in the roses, I shall watch the lilies turn their heads, I
shall pluck the lemons one by one. And the maidens will greet me on
their way to the olive gardens, the newly-married, hand in hand with
her husband, will smile upon me, she who is heavy with child will give
me her blessing, and the children will laugh and peep at me from behind
the new-mown hay; and I shall give them greeting. And I shall talk with
him who is busy in the vineyard, I shall watch him bare-foot among the
grapes, I shall see his wise hands tenderly unfold a leaf or gather up a
straying branch, and when I leave him I shall hear him say, "May your
bread be blessed to you." Under the myrtles, on a table of stone spread
with coarse white linen, such we see in Tuscany, I shall break my fast,
and I shall spill a little milk on the ground for thankfulness, and the
crumbs I shall scatter too, and a little honey that the bees have given
I shall leave for them again.

So I shall go into the city, and one will say to me, "The Signore must
have a care, for the sun will be hot, in returning it will be necessary
to come under the olives." And I shall laugh in my heart, and say, "Have
no fear, then, for the sun will not touch me." And how should I but be
glad that the sun will be hot, and how should I but be thankful that I
shall come under the olives?

And I shall come into the city by Porta alla Croce for love, because I
am but newly returned, and presently through the newer ways I shall come
to the oldest of all, Borgo deg