The Medici

They were good, they were bad
A grip on globe, this family had
A legacy that lives today
But may we ask: who were they?

Patrons to the arts and crafts
So many deals, so many drafts
Fingerprints in canvas, dome
Always satiating Rome

For their lifeblood? ‘Twas Pope’s account
And if you read any recount
The Holy coin held them afloat
Yet it all started with a boat

A ship had sailed with goods, you see
A ship owned by the Albizzi
That ship had wrecked, and weakened them
But it was secret, not condemned

That secret got out, so somehow
The people knew things had changed now
Italy, see, voted in
A man they knew would fight and win

There they took, this man of men
This righteous one they can’t condemn
A man ‘twas good, and pure of heart
Who lived and loved for every art

Creating domes, creating skies
Creating all the lusts of eyes
Fortune favored those that see
That pious works are Medici

‘Twas a family made of gold
‘Twas a family of old
We can’t forget them, if we should
I’d ask their guidance, if I could

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