Through these old streets I wander dreamily; Around me Florence sweeps her busy tide Of life; quaint palaces on every side. Here, where I pass, perchance in former day Petrarch hath walked, composing poetry To oft-sung charms of Laura. Here hath hied Dante, of Florence now the greatest pride, But whom, in life, she fiercely drove away, To write in gloom his epic. Here, beneath This loggia, Boccaccio hath told His laughing tales, to comrades, merrily What wondrous memories these scenes bequeath What artists, sculptors, painters, here of old Fashioned this lovely gem of Italy!

‘Florentine Sonnets’ was written in 1906 by William Leighton (1833-1911), describing a simple yet wonderous walk along the cobbled streets of Florence. Leighton was, as we are still to this day, touched by the history, of clicking his heels along the same worn cobblestones as the poets and artists that stepped before him.