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Cities-Venice: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations

Philadelphia. Hail! Philadelphia, tho' Quaker thou be, The birth-day of medical honors to thee In this country belongs; 'twas thou caught the flame, That crossing the ocean from Englishmen came, And kindled the fires of Wisdom and Knowledge, Inspired the student, erected a college, First held a commencement with suitable state, In the year of our Lord, seventeen sixty-eight.— WM. TODD HELMUTH — The Story of a

City Doctor. Rome. O Rome! my country! city of the soul!— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto IV. St. 78.

When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall; And when Rome falls-the World.— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto IV. St. 145.

It was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might And now was queen of land and sea. No sound was heard of clashing wars, Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain; Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars, Held undisturbed their ancient reign, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago.— ALFRED DOMETT — Christmas Hymn.

Rome, Rome, thou art no more As thou hast been! On thy seven hills of yore Thou sat'st a queen.— MRS. HEMANS — Roman Girl's Song.

See the wild Waste of all-devouring years! How Rome her own sad Sepulchre appears, With nodding arches, broken temples spread! The very Tombs now vanish'd like their dead!— POPE — Moral Essays. Ep. to Addison.

I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry, Whence this excess of joy? What has befallen me? And from within a thrilling voice replies, Thou art in Rome! A thousand busy thoughts Rush on my mind, a thousand images; And I spring up as girt to run a race!— SAM'L ROGERS — Rome.

Venice. In Venice, Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear,— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto IV. St. 3.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand; I saw from out the wave her structure rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand: A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the wingèd Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles.— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto IV. St. 1.

Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.— BYRON — Childe Harold. Canto IV. St. 3.

White swan of cities, slumbering in thy nest So wonderfully built among the reeds Of the lagoon, that fences thee and feeds, As sayeth thy old historian and thy guest!— LONGFELLOW — Venice.

The sylphs and ondines And the sea-kings and queens Long ago, long ago, on the waves built a city, As lovely as seems To some bard in his dreams, The soul of his latest love-ditty.— OWEN MEREDITH — Venice.