Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . ok back over its blue surface before we go. A light fishing bark rocks on the waves ; the white sail swells in the evening breeze ;the crew is going in the twilight to fish. The spot at which the Mincio runs out of thelake, is a good fishing ground. They cast their nets, leaning far over the boats side F 34 ITALY. and singing at their work. Their dark bright eyes, full of that enthusiasm which dwellsonly in the south, look attentively at the clouds rising above Monte Baldo, and at theevening star breaking through them. The wind carries their song to the dist
Italy from the Alps to Mount Etna . ok back over its blue surface before we go. A light fishing bark rocks on the waves ; the white sail swells in the evening breeze ;the crew is going in the twilight to fish. The spot at which the Mincio runs out of thelake, is a good fishing ground. They cast their nets, leaning far over the boats side F 34 ITALY. and singing at their work. Their dark bright eyes, full of that enthusiasm which dwellsonly in the south, look attentively at the clouds rising above Monte Baldo, and at theevening star breaking through them. The wind carries their song to the distant shore,so that wife and children can hear it. Which are the happier here, they or we ? We feelthe charm that surrounds us, with conscious self-investigation : but in their hearts it hasgrown up unconsciously. We gaze perplexed on these foreign wonders : but to them allthis beauty is home ! We cannot understand the words they sing; they are carried away by the wind andthe waters,—but perhaps that is the very soul of their song!. TOK130LK.
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Keywords: ., bookauthorcavagnasangiulianidig, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870
