Book-bot.com - read famous books online for free

The Diary of an Ennuyée by Anna Brownell Jameson
page 21 of 269 (07%)
enchanted me like Saturday's. The scenery _then_ had a different
species of beauty, a deeper interest--when the dark blue sky was above
our heads, and the transparent lake shone another heaven at our feet,
and the recollection of great and glorious names, and visions of
poetic fancy, and ideal forms more lovely than ever trod this earth,
hovered around us:--and then those thoughts which would
intrude--remembrances of the far-off absent, who are or have been
loved, mingled with the whole, and shed an imaginary splendour or a
tender interest, over scenes which required no extraneous powers to
enhance their native loveliness.--no charm borrowed from imagination
to embellish the all-beautiful reality.

_Duomo d'Ossola._--What shall I say of the marvellous, the miraculous
Simplon? Nothing: every body has said already every thing that _can_
be said and _exclaimed_.

In our descent, as the valley widened, and the stern terrific features
of the scene assumed a gentler character, we came to the beautiful
village of Davedro, with its cottages and vineyards spread over a
green slope, between the mountains and the torrent below. This lovely
nook struck me the more from its contrast with the region of snows,
clouds, and barren rocks to which our eyes had been for several hours
accustomed. In such a spot as Davedro I fancied I should wish to
_live_, could I in life assemble round me all that my craving heart
and boundless spirit desire;--_or die_, when life had exhausted all
excitement, and the subdued and weary soul had learned to be content
with repose:--but not not till _then_.

We are now in Italy; but have not yet heard the soft sounds of the
Italian language. However, we read with great satisfaction the Italian
DigitalOcean Referral Badge