Philothea - A Grecian Romance by Lydia Maria Francis Child
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page 5 of 277 (01%)
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For a few moments, Philothea stood in earnest silence, gazing upon the bright planet of evening--then, in a tone of deep enthusiasm, she exclaimed: "It is a night to feel the presence of the gods! Virgin sister of Phoebus, how calm thou art in thy glorious beauty! Thou art filling the world with music--silent to the ear, but audible to the heart! Phidias has embodied the unbreathing harmony in stone, and we worship the fair proportions, as an emanation from the gods. The birds feel it--and wonder at the tune that makes no noise. The whole earth is lulled by its influence. All is motionless; save the Naiades of the stream, moving in wreathed dance to the voiceless melody. See how their shining hair sparkles on the surface of the waters! Surely there is music in this light! Eudora, what is it within us, that listens where there is no sound? Is it thus we shall hear in Elysium?" In a subdued and troubled voice, her companion answered, "Oh, Philothea, when you talk thus, my spirit is in fear--and now, too, all is so still and bright, that it seems as if the gods themselves were listening to our speech." "The same mysterious influence impresses me with awe," replied the contemplative maiden: "In such an hour as this, Plato must have received the sublime thought, 'God is truth--and light is his shadow.'" Eudora drew more closely to her friend, and said, timidly: "Oh, Philothea, do not talk of the gods. Such discourse has a strange and fearful power, when the radiant daughter of Zeus is looking down upon us in all her heavenly majesty. Even the midnight procession of the |
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