The Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Volume 2


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ponderous wings are slowly and musically expanded. The boat glides  
between them, and commences a rapid descent into a vast amphitheatre  
entirely begirt with purple mountains, whose bases are laved by a  
gleaming river throughout the full extent of their circuit. Meantime  
the whole Paradise of Arnheim bursts upon the view. There is a gush  
of entrancing melody; there is an oppressive sense of strange sweet  
odor,--there is a dream--like intermingling to the eye of tall  
slender Eastern trees--bosky shrubberies--flocks of golden and crimson  
birds--lily-fringed lakes--meadows of violets, tulips, poppies,  
hyacinths, and tuberoses--long intertangled lines of silver  
streamlets--and, upspringing confusedly from amid all, a mass of  
semi-Gothic, semi-Saracenic architecture sustaining itself by miracle in  
mid-air, glittering in the red sunlight with a hundred oriels, minarets,  
and pinnacles; and seeming the phantom handiwork, conjointly, of the  
Sylphs, of the Fairies, of the Genii and of the Gnomes.  
309  


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