Explore "The Golden Legend" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
IL PADRONE. / The wind upon our quarter lies, / And on before the freshening gale, / That fills the snow-white lateen sail, / Swiftly our light felucca flies, / Around the billows burst and foam; / They lift her o'er the sunken rock, / They beat her sides with many a shock, / And then upon their flowing dome / They poise her, like a weathercock! / Between us and the western skies / The hills of Corsica arise; / Eastward in yonder long blue line, / The summits of the Apennine, / And southward, and still far away, / Salerno, on its sunny bay. / You cannot see it, where it lies.
PRINCE HENRY. / Ah, would that never more mine eyes / Might see its towers by night or day!