Vaucluse, ye hills and glades and shady vale,
So long the noble Tuscan bard's retreat,
When warm his heart for cruel Laura beat,
As lone he wandered in thy beauteous dale ! ...
Therefore, proud Italy, I, by God's grace,
After six years come back to gaze on thee,
This only, for barbarians fill the place
Where I once lay upon they breast, ah me! ...
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