While barque and boat beside her flits,
Nor hears, her soft siesta taking,
The Adriatic billows breaking.
ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH.
Sunset.... It is the hour when Venice puts forth her stealing charm.... At the evening hour, now, as in old times, a spirit takes Venice and folds it in loving arms, whispering words that are not even guessed by day.
FRANCIS MARION CRAWFORD.
Night in Venice: the brilliant stars twinkle in the little pools of water which the sea has left on the marshes, the breeze murmurs in the verdant seaweeds. From time to time we perceive the light from a gondola gliding over the water. The voice of the Adriatic breaking on the opposite shores of the Lido reaches us in a monotonous and majestic sound. We give ourselves up to a thousand delicious dreams.
GEORGE SAND.
SUNRISE IN VENICE
The sun rose upon Venice, and presented to me the city, whose image I had so early acquired. In the heart of a multitude, there was stillness. I looked out from the balcony on the crowded quays of yesterday; one or two idle porters were stretched in sleep on the scorching pavement, and a solitary gondola stole over the gleaming waters. This was all.