Beneath me in the distance, and dim-discovered through the misty
and smoky atmosphere of evening, rose the countless roofs and spires of
the city. Beyond, throwing his level rays athwart the dusky landscape,
sank the broad red sun. The distant murmur of the city rose upon my ear;
and the toll of the evening bell came up, mingled with the rattle of the
paved street and the confused sounds of labor. What an hour for
meditation! What a contrast between the metropolis of the living and the
metropolis of the dead!....
Before I left the graveyard the shades of evening had fallen, and the
objects around me grown dim and indistinct. As I passed the gateway, I
turned to take a parting look. I could distinguish only the chapel on the
summit of the hill, and here and there a lofty obelisk of snow-white
marble, rising from the black and heavy mass of foliage around, and
pointing upward to the gleam of the departed sun, that still lingered in
the sky, and mingled with the soft starlight of a summer evening.
The Musee de Cluny
By Grant Allen
[Footnote: From "Paris.
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