File:The Argosy (1865) (14578167000).jpg

Identifier: argosythe48wood (find matches)
Title: The Argosy
Year: 1865 (1860s)
Authors: Wood, Henry, Mrs., 1814-1887 Wood, Charles W. (Charles William), b. 1850?
Subjects:
Publisher: London (etc.) R. Bentley (etc.)
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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outh, thealmost tropical vege-tation, the voluptu-ousness of life andmanners was chang-ing into the colder,sterner influences ofthe North. Northby comparison, andcold and stern bycomparison; for inthe rich plains ofLombardy to whichwe were hasteningthere is no deficiencyof colouring or of fertility. They are wide and grand, full of associa-tions at once warlike, historical and domestic; and the knight of thesword and the monk with cowl and sandalled shoon have bothgazed with the eye of possession and the power of rule upon the vastplains bounded by the distant undulating Apennines, the far-famedAlps. We had taken our last look at Florence. To Mauleverer it was acity full of sad-sweet recollections. Twenty years ago, a child ofeight, he had stood on the quays of the Arno and watched the flow-ing river in company with those who had passed into the silent land.He was almost alone in the world. Memory had awakened sorrow-ful recollections; and the flowing river, and the heights of Fiesole
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Dantes House. 3o6 In Sumiy Climes, and all the broad outlines of the city were haunted with forms andfaces that had become shadows to him. For we are essentiallycreatures of association. The scent of a flower, the fragment of amelody, the line of a poem, the surging of the sea, or the soft mur-muring of the wind through forest trees, may in a moment open thefloodgates of memory and bring back, with all their pain or pleasure,scenes and events that have long been closed and sealed chapters inour lives. Once more and for the last time we had gazed upon the flowingwaters of the Arno, above which the full moon rises in her course,month after month, age after age. We had stood again upon theheights, and looked down upon this fair city of palaces andchurches ; this casket enclosing such art treasures, legacies fromthe great masters and the intellectually rich and powerful past. Wehad gazed mournfully, wonderingly upon the matchless view, with allits monuments, all its signs of life and grea

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