Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . , the silent landscape isanimated for a brief while with sounds and voices. The lowing of cattle is heard, and thetinkling of their bells, and the rough herdsman, spurring his smoking steed, gives outshort hoarse cries, now to his half wild dogs, now to some untamed bull rushing fiercelyalong. The osprey answers him with bent head from the rosy evening sky ; the sea windbrings flocks of piping sea-gulls flying landwards over the tops of the pine-trees ;—andwhen all is silent again, and the clouds of dust are dispersed in the twilight, you hear thesoft and so
Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . , the silent landscape isanimated for a brief while with sounds and voices. The lowing of cattle is heard, and thetinkling of their bells, and the rough herdsman, spurring his smoking steed, gives outshort hoarse cries, now to his half wild dogs, now to some untamed bull rushing fiercelyalong. The osprey answers him with bent head from the rosy evening sky ; the sea windbrings flocks of piping sea-gulls flying landwards over the tops of the pine-trees ;—andwhen all is silent again, and the clouds of dust are dispersed in the twilight, you hear thesoft and soothing surge of the neighbouring sea, like the breathing of a sleeping Titanthrough the darkening solitude. Then the moon rises above the shrub-grown hills of Laurentum, Orions silvery lampbeams over the sea, and the charm is complete. Beloved legends float in shiningdraperies, and whispering ancient names, above the glimmering heath, from whence inanswer to the call, departed forms arise noiselessly with the night mists. Strange. i THE : ? *mn THE NORTHERN WANDERER IN THE ROMAN CAMPAGNA. 285 mysterious sounds meet the listening ear—a cry—a harsh croaking—a distant shot,—a shudder in the soughing pine-trees. There is in all this a mixture of the weird and thebeautiful which powerfully excites the imagination. From the thickets of Ardea to theforlorn mouths of the Tiber, which loses itself sullenly in the sand, and whose outgoing isblessed by no human hand,—from thence to this place there spreads a dreary wretchedshore, forgotten by spring and love, whose sandy soil only affords nourishment to a few
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Keywords: ., bookauthorcavagnasangiulianidig, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870
