Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Stockholm.
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fresh vine-leaf cooled the wound and killed the
singer. Peace be with his dust – may his songs
live for ever! We go to your grave where the
rainbow points. The view from here is splendid.
The houses rise terrace-like in the steep, paved
streets; the foot-passengers can, however,
shorten the way by going through narrow lanes,
and up steps made of thick beams, and always
with a prospect downwards of the water, of the
rocks and green trees! It is delightful to dwell
here, it is healthy to dwell here, but it is not
genteel, as it is by Brunkaberg’s sand-ridge, yet
it will become so: Stockholm’s "Strada Balbi"
will one day arise on Södermalm’s rocky ground.
We stand up here. What other city in the
world has a better prospect over the salt fjord,
over the fresh lake, over towers, cupolas, heaped-up
houses, and a palace, which King Enzio
himself might have built, and round about
the dark, gloomy forests with oaks, pines and
firs, so Scandinavian, dreaming in the declining
sun? It is twilight; the night comes on, the
lamps are lighted in the city below, the stars are
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