| Author: | Robert W. Chambers | ISBN: | 1230000414432 |
| Publisher: | Consumer Oriented Ebooks Publisher | Publication: | May 9, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Robert W. Chambers |
| ISBN: | 1230000414432 |
| Publisher: | Consumer Oriented Ebooks Publisher |
| Publication: | May 9, 2015 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
Popular novel, first published in 1919.
There was a big moon over the Bosphorus; the limpid waters off
Seraglio Point glimmered; the Golden Horn was like a sheet of beaten
silver inset with topaz and ruby where lanterns on rusting Turkish
warships dyed the tarnished argent of the flood. Except for these, and
the fixed lights on the foreign guard-ships and on a big American
steam yacht, only a pale and nebulous shoreward glow betrayed the
monster city.
Over Pera the full moon's lustre fell, silvering palace, villa, sea
and coast; its rays glimmered on bridge and wharf, bastion, tower
arsenal, and minarette, transforming those big, sprawling, ramshackle
blotches of architecture called Constantinople into that shadowy,
magnificent enchantment of the East, which all believe in, but which
exists only in a poet's heart and mind.
Night veiled the squalour of Balat, and its filth, its meanness, its
flimsy sham. Moonlight made of Galata a marvel, ennobling every
bastard dome, every starved façade, every unlovely and attenuated
minarette, and invested with added charm each really lovely ruin, each
tower, palace, mosque, garden wall and balcony, and every crenelated
battlement, where the bronze bulk of ancient cannon slanted, outlined
in silver under the Prophet's moon.
Popular novel, first published in 1919.
There was a big moon over the Bosphorus; the limpid waters off
Seraglio Point glimmered; the Golden Horn was like a sheet of beaten
silver inset with topaz and ruby where lanterns on rusting Turkish
warships dyed the tarnished argent of the flood. Except for these, and
the fixed lights on the foreign guard-ships and on a big American
steam yacht, only a pale and nebulous shoreward glow betrayed the
monster city.
Over Pera the full moon's lustre fell, silvering palace, villa, sea
and coast; its rays glimmered on bridge and wharf, bastion, tower
arsenal, and minarette, transforming those big, sprawling, ramshackle
blotches of architecture called Constantinople into that shadowy,
magnificent enchantment of the East, which all believe in, but which
exists only in a poet's heart and mind.
Night veiled the squalour of Balat, and its filth, its meanness, its
flimsy sham. Moonlight made of Galata a marvel, ennobling every
bastard dome, every starved façade, every unlovely and attenuated
minarette, and invested with added charm each really lovely ruin, each
tower, palace, mosque, garden wall and balcony, and every crenelated
battlement, where the bronze bulk of ancient cannon slanted, outlined
in silver under the Prophet's moon.
