In May, 1823, he returned to Recanati as ailing as when he left it, and life appeared to him more "weary, stale, flat and unprofitable" than before. He had hoped, as he says in the "Ricordanze," that beyond the "azure mountains" bounding his native horizon, a world of unknown felicity extended; he had explored it, and found nothing but vanity and affliction of spirit.
But as years advanced, his genius was becoming more mature, his thoughts more profound, his style more beautiful. In 1824 he published, at Bologna, the first edition of his "Canti," containing the three poems already mentioned, and seven others, of which the last is that entitled "Alla Sua Donna," which is, in the present arrangement of his poems, the eighteenth, its former place being now occupied by the "Primo Amore." These splendid verses show his genius in its full meridian.
Two years had elapsed since his return from Rome when he received an offer from the Milanese publisher, Stella, to undertake an edition of the complete works of Cicero, and to reside with him whilst engaged on this task. He accepted the invitation readily, and started in July, 1825, staying at Bologna for a month on the way, during the great heat. Bologna he liked more than any other town he had yet seen, and he had some agreeable friends, amongst others, the devoted Giordani. When he arrived in Milan there were too many gaieties to please him, and he longed to return to Bologna. He did so towards the end of September, and stayed in Bologna until November of the following year, excepting a short trip to Ravenna. During this period, he was occupied with the edition of Cicero, translations from the Greek, and a commentary on Petrarch. But the pleasure he took in Bologna did not last long; the cold winter tried him, and he began to regret the liveliness and hospitality of Milan.
Always wretched at Recanati, he still, by an amiable contradiction of sentiment, when absent, pined for home; and in November, 1826, his family had him again in their midst, although he was so enfeebled that he was obliged to make the journey by short stages. It would appear that during his sojourn at Bologna he had not been insensible to the attractions of love, but love could be for him nothing but a source of torment; and, as his first return home was signalised by the wreck of hope, so was his second by the blighting of affection. He seemed like the hero of the "Pilgrim's Progress," to be writhing in the grasp of Giant Despair; and from the day of his arrival, till his departure in the following April, he was not once seen in the streets of Recanati.