ON THE RIVIERA. <br /> <br />In tortuous windings up the steep incline <br />The sombre street toils to the village square, <br />Whose antique walls in stone and moulding bear <br />Dumb witness to the Moor. Afar off shine, <br />With tier on tier, cutting heaven's blue divine, <br />The snowy Alps; and lower the hills are fair, <br />With wave-green olives rippling down to where <br />Gold clusters hang and leaves of sunburnt vine. <br /> <br />You may perchance, I never shall forget <br />When, between twofold glory of land and sea, <br />We leant together o'er the old parapet, <br />And saw the sun go down. For, oh, to me, <br />The beauty of that beautiful strange place <br />Was its reflection beaming from your face.<br /><br />Mathilde Blind<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cagnes/
