IF you would see Venice as she is,
Wander by night in silence and alone
Among her towers and sculptured palaces,
And read the story she has writ in stone;
Then, as you read, she will upon you cast
The fascination of her wondrous past.
Muse on, and let the silent gondolier
Wind at his will 'mid tortuous, twisting ways
And broad lagoons, with waters wide and clear,
On whose unruffled breast the moonbeam plays;