At the falling of dusk we passed a
thickly-wooded tract large enough to be called a forest; the great
trees looked hoary with age, and amid a jungle of undergrowth,
myrtle and lentisk, arbutus and oleander, lay green marshes, dull
deep pools, sluggish streams. A spell which was half fear fell upon
the imagination; never till now had I known an enchanted wood.
Nothing human could wander in those pathless shades, by those dead
waters. It was the very approach to the world of spirits; over this
woodland, seen on the verge of twilight, brooded a silent awe, such
as Dante knew in his _selva oscura_.
Of a sudden the dense foliage was cleft; there opened a broad alley
between drooping boughs, and in the deep hollow, bordered with sand
and stones, a flood rolled eastward. This river is now called Sinno;
it was the ancient Sins, whereon stood the city of the same name. In
the seventh century before Christ, Sins was lauded as the richest
city in the world; for luxury it outrivalled Sybaris.
I had recently been reading Lenormant's description of the costumes
of Magna Graecia prior to the Persian wars.
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