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While slowly the night wore on, and the now scudding clouds flown past, revealed again the hosts in heaven, few words were uttered save by Media; who, when all others were most sad and silent, seemed
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While slowly the night wore on, and the now scudding clouds flown past, revealed again the hosts in heaven, few words were uttered save by Media; who, when all others were most sad and silent, seemed
Returned from the cave, Hautia reclined in her clematis bower, invisible hands flinging fennel around her. And nearer, …
As their last echoes died away down the valley, Hautia glided near;— zone unbound, the amaryllis in her hand. Her bosom…
Conducted to the arbor, from which the queen had emerged, we came to a sweet-brier bower within; and reclined upon odor…
A jeweled tiara, nodding in spray, looks flowery Flozella, approached from the sea. For, lo you! the glittering foam al…
As if Mardi were a poem, and every island a canto, the shore now in sight was called Flozella-a-Nina, or The-Last-Verse…
That starless midnight, there stole from out the darkness, the Iris flag of Hautia. Again the sirens came. They bore a…
At sunrise, we stood upon the beach. Babbalanja thus:—"My voyage is ended. Not because what we sought is found; b…
Leaving Babbalanja in the old man's bower, deep in meditation; thoughtfully we strolled along the beach, inspiring…
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