Denzil place a story in verse. By Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb] |
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 | Denzil place |  |
The town near which sad Constance made a home
Was by the shores of that delightful sea
Tideless, and often bluer than the sky
Kissing its utmost edge; towards the hills
Which bounded it to westward, gardens grew
And olive-grounds, where nestling in the shade
Of orange-groves, and dim with treliss'd ways
O'errun with creepers, painted villas rose
With cool low rooms, paved with their octagons
Of shining crimson tiles, whilst on their walls
The cunning artist had depicted scenes
Repeating those the gay Venetian blinds
Shut out from view—long line of sunny sea
And orange-gardens, sombre cypress trees
And sparkling fountains; all the ceilings too
Seem'd mimic vaults of heav'n, altho' the art
Of mortal painter could not imitate
The cloudless blue of the Italian sky.
Was by the shores of that delightful sea
Tideless, and often bluer than the sky
Kissing its utmost edge; towards the hills
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And olive-grounds, where nestling in the shade
Of orange-groves, and dim with treliss'd ways
O'errun with creepers, painted villas rose
With cool low rooms, paved with their octagons
Of shining crimson tiles, whilst on their walls
The cunning artist had depicted scenes
Repeating those the gay Venetian blinds
Shut out from view—long line of sunny sea
And orange-gardens, sombre cypress trees
And sparkling fountains; all the ceilings too
Seem'd mimic vaults of heav'n, altho' the art
Of mortal painter could not imitate
The cloudless blue of the Italian sky.
| Denzil place | |