Summary

Joseph Wardle From the Thames to the Tiber

On leaving the Pantheon, and before crossing the Tiber, we were reminded of the poet’s words referring to this church: “Simple, erect, austere, sublime—Shrine of all saints and temple of all gods from Jove to Jesus—Spared and blest by time, looking tranquilly while falls or nods arch, empire, each thing round thee, and man plods his way through thorns and ashes—glorious dome! shalt thou not last? Times’ scythe and tyrant’s rods shiver upon thee—Sanctuary and home of art and piety—Pantheon! Pride of Rome.”
Source: Gutenberg

Joseph Wardle From the Thames to the Tiber

The great train thundered on, and silence largely held us all in its thrall. The half-hour in going through Mont Cenis seemed almost half-a-day. At last we emerged into the day light, and into the glorious sunshine of sunny Italy, with its vine-clad hills, and its serene and sunny sky—“Land of all lands the pride,” leaving behind us the Alpine heights (to revisit them on our return) . We were running for Turin. We found we had no buffet on the train, and as we had not laid in a stock of refreshments, we began to feel the cravings of nature, and we began to wonder how they were to be satisfied.
Source: Gutenberg

Joseph Wardle From the Thames to the Tiber

They were mostly of white marble. The river Arno runs through the city. Florence is essentially a city of flowers, as its name indicates. All around for miles castles, mansions, villas, gardens and shady nooks fill the soul with a consciousness that Nature here has bestowed her gifts of beauty in no stinted degree. Florence has been called, and I think very aptly, the Athens of Italy. This city possesses the memories of some of the world’s greatest men, “the priceless heirlooms of a glorious past.” Here the peerless bard, “Dante” sang his deathless song and made his lovely Beatrice immortal.
Source: Gutenberg

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