The Earth can show nothing more fair;
Beauty's garment this City does wear.
Temples, ships and domes lie
Clear to fields, to the sky,
All glitt'ring and bright in pure air.

And ne'er did the sun fairer steep,
Nor did I such a calm feel so deep!
As the river's sweet will
Glides it past that heart, still.
Dear God! Houses too seem asleep.