The charm of Venice

by Unknown

Grown wise, who asked at home that the whole race

Might add the spirit’s to the body’s grace,

And all be dizened out as chiefs and bards.

But in this magic weather one discards

Much old requirements: Venice seems a type

Of Life—’twixt blue and blue extends, a stripe,

As Life, the somewhat, hangs ’twixt nought and nought:

’Tis Venice, and ’tis Life—as good you sought

To spare me the Piazza’s slippery stone

Or keep me to the unchoked canals alone,