Og så af sted til Firenze

The morn when first it thunders in March,
   The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say;
 As I leaned and looked over the aloed arch
   Of the villa-gate this warm March day,
 No flash snapped, no dumb thunder rolled                5
   In the valley beneath where, white and wide
 And washed by the morning water-gold,
   Florence lay out on the mountain-side.

(første strofe i Robert Brownings
digt "Old pictures in Florence")