Venetian Nocturne
Down the narrow Ciille where the moonlight cannot
enter.
The houses are so high;
Silent and alone we pierced the night's dim core and centre—
Only you and I.
Clear and sad our footsteps rang along the hollow pavement.
Sounding like a bell;
Sounding like a voice that cries to souls in Life's enslavement,
"There is Death as well!"
Down the narrow dark we went, until a sudden whiteness
Made us hold our breath;
All the white Salute towers and domes in moonlit
brightness,—
Ah! could this be Death?
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