DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4593#0121
104 THE ISLES AND SHRINES OF GREECE
contented with a purely masculine deity. Athene,
excluded from her temple, revenged herself by re-ap-
pearing in a new guise and with new functions. If
the later Christian homage to a virgin met a need of
the human heart, who shall say that that rendered to
the Greek virgin was not as sincere and inspiring?
The best time to see the Parthenon is at sunset or
under the silver light of the full moon. The tones
of the building, weather-stained by centuries, seem
richer and deeper in the sunset glow; and the temple
fits beautifully into the illumined landscape. Take
your stand at the southwest corner of the temple
of Nike. Below you lies the theatre of Herodes
Atticus, a little to the right the hill of Philopappus,
still farther Observatory Hill, the Areopagus, the
Pnyx, and the stately Theseion. In the plains the
fresh green barley alternates with olive groves and
brown furrowed fields. To the left stretches the
Bay of Phaleron, opening to the larger sea. Piraeus
lies beyond. Here is the island of Salamis, there
^Egina. The coast of Attica fades into the dis-
tance. Walking to the other end of the Acropolis,
we see below the new Athens, the royal palace and
garden, and steep Lycabettus rising abruptly from the
plain. The whole view is framed in by sea and
mountain,— Pentelicus, from whose bosom came the
milk-white curdled marble with which these temples
were reared, Parnes, ^Egaleos, the pass of Daphne,
and, most familiar of all, the long ridge of Hymettus.
How the sinking sun seems to fondle it, and how
softly the mutable colors play over it, — gold and
violet and red, — melting, its hard, rocky surface into
contented with a purely masculine deity. Athene,
excluded from her temple, revenged herself by re-ap-
pearing in a new guise and with new functions. If
the later Christian homage to a virgin met a need of
the human heart, who shall say that that rendered to
the Greek virgin was not as sincere and inspiring?
The best time to see the Parthenon is at sunset or
under the silver light of the full moon. The tones
of the building, weather-stained by centuries, seem
richer and deeper in the sunset glow; and the temple
fits beautifully into the illumined landscape. Take
your stand at the southwest corner of the temple
of Nike. Below you lies the theatre of Herodes
Atticus, a little to the right the hill of Philopappus,
still farther Observatory Hill, the Areopagus, the
Pnyx, and the stately Theseion. In the plains the
fresh green barley alternates with olive groves and
brown furrowed fields. To the left stretches the
Bay of Phaleron, opening to the larger sea. Piraeus
lies beyond. Here is the island of Salamis, there
^Egina. The coast of Attica fades into the dis-
tance. Walking to the other end of the Acropolis,
we see below the new Athens, the royal palace and
garden, and steep Lycabettus rising abruptly from the
plain. The whole view is framed in by sea and
mountain,— Pentelicus, from whose bosom came the
milk-white curdled marble with which these temples
were reared, Parnes, ^Egaleos, the pass of Daphne,
and, most familiar of all, the long ridge of Hymettus.
How the sinking sun seems to fondle it, and how
softly the mutable colors play over it, — gold and
violet and red, — melting, its hard, rocky surface into