• He sings.I SEND my heart up to thee, all my heart
      In this my singing.
    For the stars help me, and the sea bears part;
      The very night is clinging
    Closer to Venice’ streets to leave one space
      Above me, whence thy face
    May light my joyous heart to thee its dwelling-place.

    She speaks.Say after me, and try to say
    My very words,...

  • Afloat; we move—delicious! Ah,
    What else is like the gondola?
    This level flow of liquid glass
    Begins beneath us swift to pass.
    It goes as though it went alone
    By some impulsion of its own.
    (How light it moves, how softly! Ah,
    Were all things like the gondola!)

    How light it moves, how softly! Ah,
    Could life, as does our...