And move not, speak not, for the mystery
Of Venice is with you on the sea.
Pass, if you will, beneath the five great domes
Of old Saint Mark's; watch how the glittering height
Soars in quick curves; see how each sunbeam roams
And fills the nave with soft pure amber light;
This is the heart of Venice, and the tomb
Which folds her story in its sacred gloom.
So leave her sunlight, enter now her cells,
By frowning black-browed ports and massy bars,