Longfellow’s Visit to Venice

(To be read in a quiet New England accent)

Near the celebrated Lido where the breeze is fresh and free

Stands the ancient port of Venice called the City of the Sea.

All its streets are made of water, all its homes are brick and stone,

Yet it has a picturesqueness which is justly all its own.

Here for centuries have artists come to see the vistas quaint,

Here Bellini set his easel, here he taught his School to paint.

Here the youthful Giorgione gazed upon the domes and towers,

And interpreted his era in a way which pleases ours.

A later artist, Tintoretto, also did his paintings here,

Massive works which generations have continued to revere.

Still to-day come modern artists to portray the buildings fair

And their pictures may be purchased on San Marco’s famous Square.

When the bell notes from the belfries and the campaniles chime

Still to-day we find Venetians elegantly killing time

In their gilded old palazzos, while the music in our ears

Is the distant band at Florians mixed with songs of gondoliers.

Thus the New World meets the Old World and the sentiments expressed

Are melodiously mingled in my warm New England breast.