From the glory of her beauty in its prime; "Twixt the pale, mysterious lover and the fay- Where the tide Of the broad lagoon sinks plumb into the sea, Must it be? Mimes and minstrels, flowers and music, where are ye? Was all Venice such a dream? Emma Lazarus. THE DECAY OF VENICE THE glowing pageant of my story lies, The step of doom, and trembling to my fall, Proud Freedom's death, the tyrant's festival; Whilst that Italia which was yet to be, And is, and shall be, sat, a virgin pure, High over Umbria on the mountain slopes, And saw the failing fires of liberty Fade on the chosen shrine she deemed secure, When died for many a year man's noblest hopes. SILAS WEIR MITCHELL. VENETIAN NIGHT HER eyes in the darkness shone, in the twilight shed By the gondola bent like the darkness over her head. Softly the gondola rocked, lights came and went; leant Where the silk of her dress, the blue of a bittern's wing, Rustled against my knee, and, murmuring The sweet slow hesitant English of a child, Her voice was articulate laughter, her soul smiled. Over our roads like a wing, and the dim lagoon, Softly the gondola rocked, and a pale light came Over the waters, mild as a silver flame; She lay back, thrilling with smiles, in the twilight shed By the gondola bent like the darkness over her head; I saw her eyes shine subtly, then close awhile: I remember her silence, and, in the night, her smile. ARTHUR SYMONS. DAWN AT VENICE ONE burnished cloud first turned a jagged prow— Her murky gondolas, that bow on bow Soon palace and canal paled into sight, Then up the dazzling steps that lead to God, A shrine of morning lit by Light and Love! Loud warned the chime to mass o'er quay and home, Calling soft flocks of doves to greet the day 'Mid sculptured saints and angels round the dome While market-women followed in to pray. MARTHA GILBERT DICKINSON. VENICE OUT of the land and in the sea, All is quaint and queer and quiet, Dodges not the fell brickbat; To the sound of voices far, In the amorous serenade Crooked, stony, filthy alleys, Windows showing shell and coral, Prints of ballet girls immoral, Antique paintings made to order, Cotton scarfs with gorgeous border, Silver filigree and paste, Fans for every age and taste, Ivories in rare devices Which they sell for twenty prices, Glass of every form and hue Which the ancient workmen blew. |