"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!"
To the lover of the beautiful in Nature the most enchanting characteristic of this City of the Sea is its sunset glow. Italian sunsets are all beautiful; but those of Venice are the loveliest of all. Their softness, brilliancy and splendor cannot be described. The last which I beheld here, on a night in June, surpassed all others I had ever seen. The shadows were falling to the eastward; the hush of night was stealing on the world. The cares of life seemed disappearing down the radiant west together with the God of Day. Between us and the setting sun there seemed to fall a shower of powdered gold. The entire city was pervaded by a golden light, which yet was perfectly transparent, like the purest ether.