The soothing smell of the sea came from the cliffs, making me wonder
at my fears. On the loneliest coast, in the dunnest night, a sense of
companionship comes with the smell of seaweed. At my feet spread the
great churchyard, with its hundreds of little green hillocks and
white gravestones, sprinkled here and there with square, box-like
tombs. All quietly asleep in the moonlight! Here and there an aged
headstone seemed to nod to its neighbour, as though muttering in its
dreams. The old church, bathed in the radiance, seemed larger than it
had ever done in daylight, and incomparably more grand and lonely.
On the left were the tall poplar trees, rustling and whispering among
themselves. Still, there might be at the back of the church mischief
working. I walked round thither. The ghostly shadows on the long
grass might have been shadows thrown by the ruins of Tadmor, so
quietly did they lie and dream. A weight was uplifted from my soul.
A balm of sweet peace fell upon my heart. The noises I had heard had
been imaginary, conjured up by love and fear; or they might have been
an echo of distant thunder.
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