Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . is accompanied by his relatives draped in mourning garments, by his friendsand fellow-citizens, and slaves. The dead man lies upon a bier, adorned with flowers,with his face upturned towards the sky, dressed in his richest robes, and surrounded bythe last gifts of those who loved him,—wreaths, locks of hair, flowers, ribbons, images, andcoins. The procession makes a halt : this mass of masonry is the Ustrinum ; and herethe funeral pile is heaped up, strewn with flowers and twined with ivy. The eyes of the PIOUS PILGRIMAGES AND PROFANE PROMENADES. 267 corpse
Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . is accompanied by his relatives draped in mourning garments, by his friendsand fellow-citizens, and slaves. The dead man lies upon a bier, adorned with flowers,with his face upturned towards the sky, dressed in his richest robes, and surrounded bythe last gifts of those who loved him,—wreaths, locks of hair, flowers, ribbons, images, andcoins. The procession makes a halt : this mass of masonry is the Ustrinum ; and herethe funeral pile is heaped up, strewn with flowers and twined with ivy. The eyes of the PIOUS PILGRIMAGES AND PROFANE PROMENADES. 267 corpse are opened once more, and it is prepared with sweet-smelling ointment and spicesas if for a festival. Festal robes cover him, ornaments bedeck his arms and forehead,—and then the torch is set to the heaped-up pile, and the dirges, weeping, and lamentationsresound again. Meanwhile, the ashes crumble and sink lower and lower, and a libation ofwine extinguishes the last glowing embers. All that remains of the dead is gathered into. GAME OF MORA. an urn ; the living hasten to return to the city, and give the last greeting as they look backonce more : Salve! Ave! Vale! Upon a fragment of marble lying amongst the weeds, we can read the pious inscrip-tion : Ave, anima Candida! On another: Terra tibi levis szl! Who wrote it?And for whom ? The earth has been but too light above these dead ; the wind carries itaway mingled with their ashes, and scatters it in grey dust over the leaves of the laureland thorn and wild rose bushes. That height yonder, above the main road that leads to the Neapolitan provinces, isMonte Cavo, where the temple of the Latian Jupiter once stood. Those to whom atriumphal entry into the capital was not granted, might, nevertheless, celebrate theirtriumph on this mountain. Then the road echoed with the clash of weapons, and the M M 2 26S ITALY. shouts of soldiers and civilians. The glitter of armour and golden embroidery could beseen from afar off. Clouds of in
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Keywords: ., bookauthorcavagnasangiulianidig, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870
