But It Is Not The
Queen Of Night Alone Who Reigns Here In All Her Splendour, Though
The Sun, Loitering
Just below the horizon, decks her within a golden
tinge from his car, illuminating the cliffs that hide him; the
Heavens also, of a clear softened blue, throw her forward, and the
evening star appears a smaller moon to the naked eye. The huge
shadows of the rocks, fringed with firs, concentrating the views
without darkening them, excited that tender melancholy which,
sublimating the imagination, exalts rather than depresses the mind.
My companions fell asleep - fortunately they did not snore; and I
contemplated, fearless of idle questions, a night such as I had
never before seen or felt, to charm the senses, and calm the heart.
The very air was balmy as it freshened into morn, producing the most
voluptuous sensations. A vague pleasurable sentiment absorbed me,
as I opened my bosom to the embraces of nature; and my soul rose to
its Author, with the chirping of the solitary birds, which began to
feel, rather than see, advancing day. I had leisure to mark its
progress. The grey morn, streaked with silvery rays, ushered in the
orient beams (how beautifully varying into purple!), yet I was sorry
to lose the soft watery clouds which preceded them, exciting a kind
of expectation that made me almost afraid to breathe, lest I should
break the charm. I saw the sun - and sighed.
One of my companions, now awake, perceiving that the postillion had
mistaken the road, began to swear at him, and roused the other two,
who reluctantly shook off sleep.
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