The entire column had passed out of sight: the straight white road lay bare and desolate in the moonlight
, and the sentiment in man's heart responsive to it, are the greatest of renovators and reformers.
The windows were curtainless, and the yellow moonlight
, flooding in through the diamond panes, enabled one to see even colours, whilst it softened the wealth of dust which lay over all and disguised in some measure the ravages of time and moth.
"In that more peaceful state, I have imagined her, in the moonlight
, coming to me and taking me out to show me that the home of her married life was full of her loving remembrance of her lost father.
"It must have been the fault, of the moonlight
, you know, Sister Janet, has an intoxicating quality.
We had agreed to start with the sun on the morrow, so as to get clear of possible Peeping Toms; and when good-nights had been said, and I was once more swinging towards my inn, it seemed but an hour or two, as indeed it was, before I heard four o'clock drowsily announced through my bedroom door, and before I was once more striding along that river-bank all dew- silvered with last night's moonlight
, the sun rubbing his great eye on the horizon, the whole world yawning through dainty bed-clothes of mist, and here and there a copse-full of birds congratulating themselves on their early rising.
Lovers' Lane was a veritable path in a fairyland that night -- a shimmering, mysterious place, full of wizardry in the white-woven enchantment of moonlight
. There had been a time when such a walk with Gilbert through Lovers' Lane would have been far too dangerous.
Quite a new, sweet face with black eyebrows and mustaches peeped up at him from her sable furs- so close and yet so distant- in the moonlight
At two in the morning we swept through the Straits of Messina, and so bright was the moonlight
that Italy on the one hand and Sicily on the other seemed almost as distinctly visible as though we looked at them from the middle of a street we were traversing.
John Jasper, on his way home through the Close, is brought to a stand-still by the spectacle of Stony Durdles, dinner-bundle and all, leaning his back against the iron railing of the burial-ground enclosing it from the old cloister-arches; and a hideous small boy in rags flinging stones at him as a well-defined mark in the moonlight
. Sometimes the stones hit him, and sometimes they miss him, but Durdles seems indifferent to either fortune.
He gurgled wordlessly, and Claire went on, her low, sad voice mingling with the moonlight
in a manner that caused thrills to run up and down his spine.
And on the bay the moonlight
lay, And the shadow of the moon.