File:Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna (1877) (14774691844).jpg

Identifier: italyfromalpstom00stie (find matches)
Title: Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna
Year: 1877 (1870s)
Authors: Stieler, Karl, 1842-1885 Cavagna Sangiuliani di Gualdana, Antonio, conte, 1843-1913, former owner. IU-R Paulus, Eduard, 1837-1907 Kaden, Woldemar, 1838-1907 Trollope, Frances Eleanor, d. 1913 Trollope, Thomas Adolphus, 1810-1892
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Publisher: London : Chapman and Hall
Contributing Library: University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign

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on which the thought of yesterday—be it sad or joyful,—neverintrudes. Only the present is fair ; only one golden bright momentSmiles upon him who is happy. The present delights him alone ! Did I weep yesterday ? Was my heart oppressed with bitter cares ? Did I strivein vain for the wreath of fame ?—I open my eyes on the morrow, and the troublousthoughts of yesterday are dissipated; joy, and faith in the beauty of life, hover round my KNOWST THOU THE LAND ? 357 couch, kiss my cheeks and brow, and point towards the mountains and the sea. The sea!It lies like a silver girdle around the fair body of the enchanting sirens, clasping all theirbeauties together as a ribbon binds a bunch of flowers. Smiling cities are scattered allalong the shore like pearls and diamonds, from the dark green promontory of Sorrento,to the lovely slopes of Castellamare ;—from hence, past the shining Torri, to pleasantPortici; and on the sides of Vesuvius, and the Vomero, and Posilippo,—whither shall we
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FOUNTAIN IN THE VILLA REALE, NAPLES. turn our eyes ? How take in all this beauty ? Where begin ? At Capreras jaggedisland, or the bold Cape of Minerva ? Shall we hasten to the Greek temples of distantPsestum ? Or wander through the city of Hercules, and the ancient Stabiae ? Or listenfor the sybilline oracle in the temple of Cumse ? Yonder the terrors of Vesuvius exciteour wonder : here soft memories attract us to the vine-grown tomb of Virgil. In thisdirection, a jolly company of dancers, excited by wild bacchanalian music, is beating theground in a shady garden ; in the other, a shoal of little boats are rocking in the sunshineon the blue sea. And thou, child of man, standest in the midst and askest thyselfwondering, May I, too, rejoice ? Ah yes ; rejoice, thou, also ! Stand not on one sidelike a mute, stupid boy. Thy good mother, thy great, rich mother Nature, takes theeby the hand, and leads thee lovingly into the golden circle of enjoyment. And ye in theNorth : Grudge him not, fa

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