So sweetly cool was the atmosphere, after all the feverish day, that the summer eve might be fancied as sprinkling dews and liquid moonlight
, with a dash of icy temper in them, out of a silver vase.
I remember in fact that as we pushed into his little chamber, where the bed had not been slept in at all and the window, uncovered to the moonlight
, made the place so clear that there was no need of striking a match--I remember how I suddenly dropped, sank upon the edge of the bed from the force of the idea that he must know how he really, as they say, "had" me.
But on other moonlight
nights, when the sadness and the silence have touched me in a different way--have affected me with something as like a sorrowful sense of peace, as any emotion that had pain for its foundations could--I have imagined her as coming to me in my cell, and leading me out into the freedom beyond the fortress.
Busy was the Watcher, and many bowed beneath him, and often the spear of Umslopogaas flashed in the moonlight
At this point my companion left me, and I--well, I confess that I retraced my steps to the common and rambled up that green lane, along which the romantic schoolmaster used to steal in the moonlight
to the warm arms of his love.
When they had reached the little moonlight
glade, having in front the reverend, though ruinous chapel, and the rude hermitage, so well suited to ascetic devotion, Wamba whispered to Gurth,
Just then the noise of horses topped the rise, and four or five riders came in sight in the moonlight
and swept at full gallop down the slope.
He stood still, looking out across the moonlight
, his head a little raised and his ears spread like fans, up to the great folds of the Garo hills.
As I did so I saw stretching far below me the beautiful vista of rocky gorge, and level, cacti-studded flat, wrought by the moonlight
into a miracle of soft splendor and wondrous enchantment.
I thought it was some trick of the moonlight
, some weird effect of shadow, but I kept looking, and it could be no delusion.
Thus there is another gale in my memory, a thing of endless, deep, humming roar, moonlight
, and a spoken sentence.
Hung with the sunset's fringe of gold; Now strangely clear thine image grows, And olden memories Are startled from their long repose Like shadows on the silent snows When suddenly the night-wind blows Where quiet moonlight