cover
Temple, Taormina

Temple, Taormina

ITALY
THE MAGIC LAND

BY

LILIAN WHITING

AUTHOR OF “THE FLORENCE OF LANDOR,” “THE LAND OF
ENCHANTMENT,” “THE WORLD BEAUTIFUL,” ETC.

“And, under many a yellow star,
We dropped into the Magic Land!”

Illustrated from Photographs



BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1907



Copyright, 1907,
By Little, Brown, and Company.
——
All rights reserved

Published November, 1907



THE GRIFFITH-STILLINGS PRESS, BOSTON, U.S.A.



TO
ELLA
(Mrs. Franklin Simmons)

WHOSE EARTHLY FORM REPOSES IN THE BEAUTIFUL ROMAN CEMETERY,
WHERE POETIC ASSOCIATIONS WITH KEATS AND SHELLEY HAUNT THE
AIR,—UNDER THE SCULPTURED “ANGEL OF THE RESURRECTION,”
WITH ITS MAJESTIC SYMBOLISM OF THE TRIUMPH OF
IMMORTALITY,—BUT WHOSE RADIANT PRESENCE
STILL TRANSFIGURES THE LIFE THAT HELD
HER IN IMMORTAL DEVOTION,—
THESE PAGES ARE INSCRIBED,

WITH THE UNFORGETTING LOVE OF

LILIAN WHITING.

Rome, Italy, May Days, 1907.


Nor Life is ever lord of Death,
And Love can never lose its own.
[vii]

PREFATORY NOTE

That Florence, the “Flower City,” receives only a passingallusion in this record of various impressions thatgleam and glow through the days after several visits tothe Magic Land, is due to the fact that in a previousvolume by the writer—one entitled “The Florence ofLandor”—the lovely Tuscan town with its art, itsineffable beauty, and its choice social life, formed thesubject matter of that volume. Any attempt to portrayFlorence in the present book would savor only of therepetition of loves and enthusiasms already recorded inthe previous work in which Walter Savage Landor formedthe central figure. For that reason no mention of Florence,beyond some mere allusion, is attempted in thesepages, which only aim to present certain fragmentaryimpressions of various sojourns in Italy, refracted throughthe prism of memory. Whatever inconveniences or discomfortattend the traveller swiftly fade, and leave to himonly the precious heritage of resplendent sunset skies, ofpoetic association, of artistic beauty. In spirit he isagain lingering through long afternoons in St. Peter’s

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