Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . ostumes of their native hills, black-haired urchins, and even children in arms,—theycome hither to lay their little offerings before the Queen of Heaven, who can help themout of poverty, care, and love-troubles, if she only will ! Thousands of lustrous dark eyesare turned towards her, and passionate, wild songs and prayers resound pilgrimages take place twice a year ; the first in the early clays of spring, thesecond at the vintage time in the glorious month of September. And whoever wishes SHORES OF LA GO FUCINO TO THE PONTINE MARSHES. 313
Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . ostumes of their native hills, black-haired urchins, and even children in arms,—theycome hither to lay their little offerings before the Queen of Heaven, who can help themout of poverty, care, and love-troubles, if she only will ! Thousands of lustrous dark eyesare turned towards her, and passionate, wild songs and prayers resound pilgrimages take place twice a year ; the first in the early clays of spring, thesecond at the vintage time in the glorious month of September. And whoever wishes SHORES OF LA GO FUCINO TO THE PONTINE MARSHES. 313 to study and enjoy the genuine Italian populace has only to come hither and mingle withthe crowd of pilgrims : among whom types of the highest classic beauty are by no meansrare. All the land around teems with rich vegetation. The trees are not only strong andluxuriant, but picturesquely beautiful, and arranged in groups which delight the eye bymanifold contrasts of form and foliage. The lively Via Praenestina passes through many. GENAZZANO. such groups. Now it is a hoary heaven-piercing cypress rising like a pillar from amidst thecheerful chestnut trees : now a group of thick-stemmed stone pines, whose outlines contrastagreeably with the slender vertical poplar : now some elms hung over with bacchic gar-lands of the vine. But above all, the walnut trees flourish here especially. Beyond Cavethe road passes through a hollow way which is almost choked up with bush and shrub andcreeping plants. A stream flows through it on the right ; and one of the rocky wallswhich enclose the hollow way, is constantly dripping with tiny rivulets of water, which tricklesilverly between the great leaves of the wood-ivy. Here and there the water is collectedinto stone basins, and, around these, gaily clad women wash and chat : the herdsman orthe carter stops his beasts to drink; and slender girls lift up their great copper pitchers tothe mouth of the Campagnan farmer as he halts in his ride. It i
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Keywords: ., bookauthorcavagnasangiulianidig, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870
