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Proust, Marcel, 1871-1922

"Swann's Way"

Elsewhere a corner seemed to be
reserved for the commoner kinds of lily; of a neat pink or white like
rocket-flowers, washed clean like porcelain, with housewifely care; while,
a little farther again, were others, pressed close together in a floating
garden-bed, as though pansies had flown out of a garden like butterflies
and were hovering with blue and burnished wings over the transparent
shadowiness of this watery border; this skiey border also, for it set
beneath the flowers a soil of a colour more precious, more moving than
their own; and both in the afternoon, when it sparkled beneath the lilies
in the kaleidoscope of a happiness silent, restless, and alert, and
towards evening, when it was filled like a distant heaven with the roseate
dreams of the setting sun, incessantly changing and ever remaining in
harmony, about the more permanent colour of the flowers themselves, with
the utmost profundity, evanescence, and mystery--with a quiet suggestion
of infinity; afternoon or evening, it seemed to have set them flowering in
the heart of the sky.
After leaving this park the Vivonne began to flow again more swiftly.


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