Witch Winnie in Venice and the Alchemist's Story

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A.L. Chatterton Company, 1911 - Venice (Italy) - 322 pages
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Page 68 - ... among the gleaming of the golden ground through the leaves beside them, interrupted and dim, like the morning light as it faded back among the branches of Eden, when first its gates were angel-guarded long ago. And round the walls of the porches there are set pillars of variegated stones, jasper and porphyry, and deep green serpentine spotted with flakes of snow, and marbles, that half refuse and half yield to the sunshine, Cleopatra-like, ' ' their bluest veins to kiss...
Page 68 - ... a confusion of delight, amidst which the breasts of the Greek horses are seen blazing in their breadth of golden strength, and the St Mark's lion, lifted on a blue field covered with stars...
Page 65 - A few in fear, Flying away from him whose boast it was,* That the grass grew not where his horse had trod, Gave birth to VENICE.
Page 67 - ... a multitude of pillars and white domes, clustered into a long low pyramid of coloured light; a treasure-heap, it seems, partly of gold, and partly of opal and mother-of-pearl, hollowed beneath into five great vaulted porches, ceiled with fair mosaic, and beset with sculpture of alabaster, clear as amber and delicate as ivory...
Page 162 - She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers...
Page 44 - Invisible ; and to the land we went, As to a floating city, — steering in, And gliding up her streets as in a dream, So smoothly, silently, — by many a dome, Mosque-like, and many a stately portico, The statues ranged along an azure sky ; By many a pile in more than Eastern pride, Of old the residence of merchant kings ; The fronts of some, though time had shattered them, Still glowing with the richest hues of art, As though the wealth within them had run o'er.
Page vi - The epoch ends, the world is still. The age has talk'd and work'd its fill — The famous orators have shone, The famous poets sung and gone, The famous men of war have fought, The famous speculators thought, The famous players, sculptors, wrought, The famous painters fill'd their wall, The famous critics judged it all.
Page 180 - When along the light ripple the far serenade Has accosted the ear of each passionate maid, She may open the window that looks on the stream, — She may smile on her pillow and blend it in dream ; Half in words, half in music, it pierces the gloom, " I am coming — stall — but you know not for whom...
Page 161 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear: Those days are gone — but Beauty still is here. States fall, arts fade — but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!
Page 294 - On the level quivering line Of the waters crystalline ; And before that chasm of light, As within a furnace bright, Column, tower, and dome, and spire, Shine like obelisks of fire...

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