File:The country of The ring and the book (1913) (14597113759).jpg

Identifier: countryofringb00trev (find matches)
Title: The country of The ring and the book
Year: 1913 (1910s)
Authors: Treves, Frederick, Sir, 1853-1923
Subjects: Browning, Robert, 1812-1889
Publisher: London : Cassell
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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Text Appearing Before Image:
ook upon, being so misshapen, so mutilated, sotortured, so untree-like. At the commencement of May, at the time whenPompilia passed along the road, the vines are at theirloveliest. They are by no means fully grown, andare, indeed, only just beginning to form festoonsfrom tree to tree; but the leaves are wonderful, beingin tint a light yellowish green, as if each leaf hadbeen dipped in gold. They appear to be almost trans-lucent, and to cast no shadow, to be almost luminous,so that even when the sky is clouded they seem toreflect the sun. These vines stand knee-deep in youngcorn, and among the corn will be scarlet poppies. The crops that, in squares and alleys and lanes,cover every segment of the ground, are at theirprettiest, for the peas and the beans are in flower,while everything that grows is young, luscious, sprightlyand eager, and every stream and rivulet is full. Inthis carnival of spring in Italy is to be seen, spreadout like a carpet on the earth, every tint of green that 180
Text Appearing After Image:
From Arezzo to Perugia the mind of a painter ever imagined, from the lettucegreen of the baby crop to the sturdy middle-aged greenof the bay tree and the wizened green of the ancient,shrunken, patriarchal olive. The young leaves of thepoplar tree are of so pallid a green that they appear tobe lit by moonlight, while the leaves of the acanthusare of so deep a hue that one imagines they will beblack by the autumn. As a relief to this flood of green there will bea few patches of chocolate-brown earth, still unsown, afield of claret-coloured clover, a mound of yellowbroom, a dome of white acacia trees in blossom,a little stone town on a hill, a red-tiled cottage and ahedge of pink and white wild roses. Every roadside,every gully, every hedgerow and spinney are brilliantwith flowers, but the most beautiful sight that Umbriacan display in the early spring—a sight that Pompiliamust have paused to look upon—is a field of flax withpoppies in it. The flax forms a sheet of forget-me-not blue

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