quiet bays of the Saronic Gulf, passing through small suburbs while offering us a view across the gulf of Aegina. Over the steep foot of the mountain stood the gleaming.-white ruins of the temple in a strong sea breeze. For the wind these few standing columns were the strings of an invisible lyre, the song of which the far-seeing Delian god let resonate over the Cycladic world of islands.
The way the bare rock of the cape lifts the Temple towards the sky over the sea, serving as a signal for the ships; the way that this single gesture of the land suggests the invisible nearness of the divine and dedicates to it every growth and every human work—who could insist here any more on the capability of meager saying?
However, all this is present only in the element of an unspoken language and that offers an all the more reliable access to them. In the land of the Greeks, though, was given the exceptional gift of holding the wealth of the holy, both its grace and its fear, in its spoken language. Despite their love for navigation, the people of this country knew how to inhabit and demarcate the world against the barbarous in honor