He
enjoys with rapture the panoramic splendor of the view from the summit
of the Alban Hills--from the Monte Cavo--whence he could see the shores
of St. Peter from Terracina and the promontory of Circe as far as Monte
Argentaro, and the wide expanse of country round about, with the ruined
cities of the past, and with the mountain-chains of Central Italy
beyond; and then his eye would turn to the green woods in the hollows
beneath and the mountain-lakes among them. He feels the beauty of the
position of Todi, crowning the vineyards and olive-clad slopes, looking
down upon distant woods and upon the valley of the Tiber, where towns
and castles rise above the winding river. The lovely hills about Siena,
with villas and monasteries on every height, are his own home, and his
descrip- tions of them are touched with a peculiar feeling. Single
picturesque glimpses charm him too, like the little promontory of Capo
di Monte that stretches out into the Lake of Bolsena. 'Rocky steps,' we
read, 'shaded by vines, descend to the water's edge, where the
evergreen oaks stand between the cliffs, alive with the song of
thrushes.' On the path round the Lake of Nemi, beneath the chestnuts
and fruit-trees, he feels that here, if anywhere, a poet's soul must
awake--here in the hiding-place of Diana! He often held consistories or
received ambassadors under huge old chestnut-trees, or beneath the
olives on the greensward by some gurgling spring.
Pages:
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350