V e n e t i a n T w i l i g h t

by Carter S. Cole.

Illustration by Thomas Fogarty.

Y gondolier lazily makes his way,

Threading along, humming a song,

While glorious tints of a dying day

Fill me with rapture; and earth, sky, and sea,

In their aureole robes, are a mystery

Hidden from none, priceless, but free!

The swish of the oar in the dark, quiet stream,

Rhythmical, clear, soothing to hear,

Scatters the mist as a little moonbeam

Kisses the lips that are mine by right,

And caresses the form with its mellow light

For which I am yearning to-night.

This world is a place full of trouble and pain,

None of us know, why this is so;

In fancy, at least, when you suffer again,

Ride in my gondola, dismiss all care,

Hear the soft music that floats through the air,

At twilight, in Venice, so fair.

“My gondolier lazily makes his way,

Threading along, humming a song.”