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Updated: May 9, 2025
Is there a next world for this?" and he took from a tall vase near at hand a delicate flower, lily-shaped and deliciously odorous, . . "The expression of its soul or mind is in its fragrance, even as the expression of ours finds vent in thought and aspiration, have we more right to live again than this most innocently fair blossom, unsmirched by deeds of evil? Nay!
Wine from the royal vats of Ispahan and Shiraz, in bottles of tinged shell, and lily-shaped cups of silver, and flagons and tankards of solid gold.
Peter's and immediately became sensible of an evil odor, the bad odor of our fallen nature, which there is no escaping in any nook of Rome. . . . Between the pillars of the colonnade, however, we had the pleasant spectacle of the two fountains, sending up their lily-shaped gush, with rainbows shining in their falling spray.
Each of these entrances, I was told, was particularly adapted to the admission of the inhabitants of the different localities they represented. On looking down I beheld the apartment I had first entered. It was no longer vacant each gallery was filled with spectators. On the lily-shaped rostrum stood Henry Clay and George Washington Washington speaking to the people.
There never was anything so lovely as the green and pink garden and the lily-shaped lights, and the flowers; and such pretty girls who knew just what to do. But I cannot understand the men who come here. When dear old Billy" thank heaven she says dear Billy! "talks I know just what he means. But these men use so many words Susan never taught me, and laugh so loud when they say them.
They do not wander, dance, nor waver, as waterspouts do; nor are they at all lily-shaped, like waterspouts: but ten hewn pillars of water, with uniform diameter from top to bottom, only a little twisted here and there, and, as I divine, fifty mètres in girth. Five, ten, stupendous minutes we look, Captain Tombarel mechanically repeating and repeating under his breath "Mon Dieu!"
He, grasping the lily-shaped chalice convulsively in his right hand, looked up despairingly to the polished dome of malachite, with its revolving globe of fire that shed a solemn blood-red glow upon his agonized young face, . . a smile was on his lips, the dreadful smile of desperate, maddened misery.
Peter's and immediately became sensible of an evil odor, the bad odor of our fallen nature, which there is no escaping in any nook of Rome. . . . . Between the pillars of the colonnade, however, we had the pleasant spectacle of the two fountains, sending up their lily-shaped gush, with rainbows shining in their falling spray.
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