 At home I dream that at Naples, at Rome, I can be intoxicated with beauty, and lose my sadness. I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me is the stern fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical,...  The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art - Page 1461848Full view - About this book
 | William S. Walsh - 1951 - 1116 pages
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 | Randall Stewart - 1954 - 1088 pages
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 | Robert Ulich - 1954 - 696 pages
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