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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Adela Cathcart, Volume 3"

'Thus let
them lie,' said he, 'till the rain and frost have cleansed them of paint
and drapery: no storm can hurt the pillars and arches of these halls.'
"The hours of this day went heavily. The storm was gone, but the rain was
left; the passion had departed, but the tears remained behind. Dull and
dark the low misty clouds brooded over the castle and the lake, and shut
out all the neighbourhood. Even if they had climbed to the loftiest known
turret, they would have found it swathed in a garment of clinging vapour,
affording no refreshment to the eye, and no hope to the heart. There was
one lofty tower that rose sheer a hundred feet above the rest, and from
which the fog could have been seen lying in a grey mass beneath; but that
tower they had not yet discovered, nor another close beside it, the top of
which was never seen, nor could be, for the highest clouds of heaven
clustered continually around it. The rain fell continuously, though not
heavily, without; and within, too, there were clouds from which dropped
the tears which are the rain of the spirit.


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