White clouds that rose clouds chase
Till the sky laughs round, blue and bare;
Sunbeams that quivering waves out–race
To sparkle kisses on a marble stair;
Indolent water that images
Slender–pillared palaces,
Or glides in shadow and sun, where, over
Walls that leaning crumble red,
Milky blossom and fresh leaf hover,
Or glitters in endless morning spread,
Far and faint for dazzling miles
To lonely towers and cypress isles,
Where phantom mountains hang on high
Along the mist of northern sky:
Venice.
by Laurence Binyon
