Sight is at first a sad enemy to imagination, and to those pleasures belonging to old times with which some exertions of that power will always mingle.  Nothing perhaps brings this truth home to the feelings more than the city of Rome, not so much in respect to the impression made at the moment when it is first seen and looked at as a whole, for then the imagination may be invigorated, and the mind’s eye quickened to perceive as much as that of the imagination; but when particular spots or objects are sought out, disappointment is, I believe, invariably felt.  Ability to recover from this disappointment will exist in proportion to knowledge, and the power of the mind to reconstruct out of fragments and parts, and to make details in the present subservient to more adequate comprehension of the past.

304. ‘At Rome.’

    ‘They who have seen the noble Roman’s scorn.’ [VII. l. 1.]

I have a private interest in this sonnet, for I doubt whether it would ever have been written, but for the lively picture given me by Anna Ricketts of what they had witnessed of the indignation and sorrow expressed by some Italian noblemen of their acquaintance upon the surrender, which circumstances had obliged them to make, of the best portion of their family mansions to strangers.

305. *_At Albano_. [IX]

This sonnet is founded on simple fact, and was written to enlarge, if possible, the views of those who can see nothing but evil in the intercessions countenanced by the Church of Rome.  That they are in many respects lamentably pernicious must be acknowledged; but, on the other hand, they who reflect while they see and observe cannot but be struck with instances which will prove that it is a great error to condemn in all cases such mediation, as purely idolatrous.  This remark bears with especial force upon addresses to the Virgin.

306. *_Cuckoo at Laverna_. [XIV.]

May 25th, 1837.  Among a thousand delightful feelings connected in my mind with the voice of the cuckoo, there is a personal one which is rather melancholy.  I was first convinced that age had rather dulled my hearing, by not being able to catch the sound at the same distance as the younger companions of my walks; and of this failure I had proof upon the occasion that suggested these verses.  I did not hear the sound till Mr. Robinson had twice or thrice directed my attention to it.

307. Camaldoli. [XV.]

This famous sanctuary was the original establishment of Saint Romualdo, (or Rumwald, as our ancestors saxonised the name) in the 11th century, the ground (campo) being given by a Count Maldo.  The Camaldolensi, however, have spread wide as a branch of Benedictines, and may therefore be classed among the gentlemen of the monastic orders.  The society comprehends two orders, monks and hermits; symbolised by their arms, two doves drinking out of the same cup.  The monastery in which the monks here reside is beautifully