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Updated: May 24, 2025
The child's veneration can scarcely climb to any loftier height than the soul of a wise and good parent...How can there be for him diviner truth than his father's knowledge, a more wonderous world than his father's experience, a better providence than his mother's vigilance, a securer fidelity than in their united promise?
Is this your speciality, heads, or do you go to nature and reproduce her wonderous moods and shades with your pencil?" "My great ideal is Nature. You, too, are an artist." "I have no talent whatever, but the deepest sympathy with Nature, and an appreciation of her harmonies." "Do you not paint flowers, or sketch home scenes?"
Toward evening they got to a building that appeared to have been destroyed; ashes and rubbish lay around; some charred beams peered out from among the stones; the trees that stood near were scorcht. Here the youth seemed to recognize what he saw. This, he affirmed confidently, had been the abode of the murderers and of that wonderous Crescentia. They made halt.
But the dream, so seemed it, had flown away; the net of sleep which had held the wonderous form inclosed, was rent asunder: and as clouds and mists move along the side of the hills on the gentle morning breeze in wavy forms and now rise and now sink again, so the slumberer began to stir, stretcht herself as if powerless, and in slow and graceful motions seemed striving to emerge from her sleep.
The more the testimonies on either side have been multiplied, the stronger is the conviction; though it generally happens that the original evidence is wonderous slender, and that the number of writers have but copied one another; or, what is worse, have only added to the original, without any new authority.
The music of nature had long possessed a sort of personality for Edgar Poe, and now the voices, the motions, the numberless colors of the world about him took definite shape in his fancy of a wonderous fairy-woman whom he worshipped with an unearthly, poetic passion that was compared to the passion of the normal man to flesh and blood woman as moonlight to sunshine a passion which was luminous without heat.
"With grace divine her soul is blest, And heavenly Pallas breathes within her breast; In wonderous arts than woman more renowned, And more than woman with deep wisdom crowned. It was the last market hour of Athens, when Anaxagoras, Philothea, and Eudora, accompanied by Geta, the favourite slave of Phidias, stepped forth into the street, on their way to Aspasia's residence.
Here, where the dust-laden air could no longer mask their true colors, the stars shone unwinkingly, steadily, and in a glory that earth-bound men had never seen before. They shone in a wonderous riot of color, as varied and as beautiful as the display of colored floodlights in some great city. They were tiny pinpoints of radiance, red, green, orange, and yellow, shining with intense brilliance.
Quoth the sharper, "I am thine ass and my story is a wonderous one and 'tis this.
I didn't have your letter, that letter that you sent me. Not till Zeb brought it to me day before yesterday. That was why I didn't write to you where I was." "Where are you now?" the excitement in his voice frightened her. "Tell me, where are you?" The giggling back of her grew so insistent that it broke in upon even the solitude of her wonderous moment.
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