A VISIT TO LA VERNIA 



English travellers of past generations, and if on the 

 further side of Arno 



" Vallombrosa remotely remembers 

 The foot which she knew when her leaves were September's," 



these forest shades recall the home-sick lay of the exiled 

 Jacobite who 



" Heard on La Vernia Scargill's whispering trees, 

 And pined by Arno for my lovelier Tees." 



But as we climb the rugged mountain-side and seek 

 out a path among rocks overgrown with moss and 

 brambles, we leave other memories behind for those of 

 Francis. Every step is hallowed by the remembrance 

 of his presence in these parts, and our peasant guides 

 could point out the oaks which mark the place where 

 he rested and the spring from which he drank, as well 

 as the monks themselves. The very birds clapped 

 their wings with joy at his coming, they told us, quot- 

 ing almost the words of the " Fioretti " " our 

 brothers and sisters sang out to bid him welcome." 

 As we ascended higher, the road became steeper and 

 the rocks more barren, until we reached the grass 

 meadows at the base of the perpendicular cliffs at 

 the top of which the convent stands. A little further 

 on at a spot known as La Beccia, or the Fountain of St. 

 Francis, is a small hostelry built by the municipality 

 of Florence for the reception of women-pilgrims, and 

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