Explore "Alone" by Norman Douglas on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Those Sirens! They have called me back, after nearly three months in Florence, to that village on the hill-top. Nothing but smiles up there.
And never was Corsanico more charming, all drenched in sunlight and pranked out with fresh green. On this fourteenth of May, I said to myself, I am wont to attend a certain yearly festival far away, and there enjoy myself prodigiously. Yet -- can it be possible? -- I am even happier here. Seldom does the event surpass one's hopes.