As I think I wrote to you, I fell ill with a form of fever,—and had a brief if severe recurrence of it at Rome: and so was glad some time ago to get on to my beloved ‘Greek’ Taormina, where I rapidly ‘convalesced.’ A few days ago I came on here, to the wilds inlands of the Sicilian Highlands, to spend a month with my dear friend here, in this wonderful old ‘Castle-Fortress-Monastery-Mansion—the Castel’ Maniace itself being over 2,000 feet in the highlands beyond Etna, and Maletto, the nearest station about 3,000.
How you and Grace would rejoice in this region. Within a day’s easy ride is Enna, sacred to Demeter, and about a mile or so from Castel’ Maniace, in a wild desolate region of a lava wilderness, is the lonely heron-haunted moorland-lake wherein tradition has it Persephone disappeared....
W. S.
I joined him early in February at Maniace and we remained with Mr. Hood for a month of sunshine and flowers. Among other guests came Miss Maud Valerie White. She was wishful that the pleasant days spent there together should be commemorated, and proposed that W. S. should write a short poem, that she would set to Sicilian airs, and that the song should be dedicated to our host. To that end Mr. Hood summoned to the Castello one of the peasant bagpipe players, who one evening walked round and round the hall, playing the airs that are played each Christmas by the pipers before the shrines to the Madonna in the various churches. The result of that evening was a song, “Buon’ Riposo,” written by William Sharp, set to music by Miss Valerie White, and published by Messrs. Chappell.
BUON RIPOSO
When, like a sleeping child
Or a bird in the nest,
The day is gathered
To the earth’s breast ...
Hush!... ‘tis the dream-wind