Toggle Dropdown Serif Sans-serif Monospaced Dyslexic Bold Italic Font size: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 Mark as read [object Object] Only page of title 109 5 Moderate I wandered through Scoglietto's far retreat, The oranges on each o'erhanging spray Burned as bright lamps of gold to shame the day; Some startled bird with fluttering wings and fleet Made snow of all the blossoms; at my feet Like silver moons the pale narcissi lay: And the curved waves that streaked the great green bay Laughed i' the sun, and life seemed very sweet. Outside the young boy-priest passed singing clear, "Jesus the son of Mary has been slain, O come and fill His sepulchre with flowers." Ah, God! Ah, God! those dear Hellenic hours Had drowned all memory of Thy bitter pain, The Cross, the Crown, the Soldiers and the Spear. End of title Sign in to unlock this title Sign in to continue reading, it's free! As an unregistered user you can only read a little bit. Links External resources bookshop Wikipedia Project Gutenberg Goodreads Google Books
I wandered through Scoglietto's far retreat, The oranges on each o'erhanging spray Burned as bright lamps of gold to shame the day;
Some startled bird with fluttering wings and fleet Made snow of all the blossoms; at my feet Like silver moons the pale narcissi lay:
And the curved waves that streaked the great green bay Laughed i' the sun, and life seemed very sweet.
Outside the young boy-priest passed singing clear, "Jesus the son of Mary has been slain, O come and fill His sepulchre with flowers."
Ah, God! Ah, God! those dear Hellenic hours Had drowned all memory of Thy bitter pain, The Cross, the Crown, the Soldiers and the Spear.
