A Literary Take on Icy Weather

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The following passage is an excerpt from INFELICE, written by my favorite novelist, Augusta Evans Wilson (1835-1909).

“Walking to the window, he stood for some moments, with his hands folded behind him, and he noted the splendor of the spectacle presented by the risen sun shining upon temples and palaces of ice, prism-tinted domes and minarets, and burnishing after the similitude of silver stalactites and arcades which had built themselves into crystal campaniles, more glorious than Giotto’s,–the pastor said:–“The physical world just as God left it,–how pure, how lovely, how entirely good;–how sacred from His hallowing touch! Oh!  that the world of men and women were half as unchangingly true, stainless, and holy.”

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