The jasper tents on the
everlasting hunting grounds, and the motionless streams were brightning
with living flame. Thousands of Indians, strong and fair, in countless
groupings, seemed, to surpass even the sky itself in their glittering
starry dress.
Paul Guidon appeared to move his head forward as the star-paved sky
increased in burning brightness, till overpowered by the lustre shining,
and dazzled by the increasing brilliancy. Little Mag fell to the floor
and awoke in the darkened room. As she was in the act of falling the
faint sound of distant music, mingled with the noise of far away rushing
waters, seemed to fall upon her ears, increasing in strength and melody
as she touched the floor.
If Milman's lines had been written or known at the time of Mag's dream,
they could have been most suitably recited.
"From all the harping throng
Bursts the tumultuous song,
Like the unceasing sound of cataracts pouring,
Hosanna o'er hosanna louder roaring.
That faintly echoing down to earthly ears,
Hath seemed the concert sweet of the harmonious spheres.
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