Off Lynnport Light

Excerpt from Off Lynnport Light

The century grows Old, bowed to earth with the accumulated incidents of its hundred One looks backward and speculates upon the events and varied-colored life that ushered in its infancy. The contemplation of that far-off time of courtly dame, of gay gallant, opens the portals of long silent and forgotten places. The Shadowy host, asleep these many years, rise and pass before our watching eyes. We hear the rustle of silks and laces and the Clank Of swords. We see figures bow in the slow rhythm of the stately minuet to the plaintive chords Of the spinet. We smell the perfume of sandalwood and musk rising heavily upon the atmosphere. Have we Slept through the passing years? Has the busy strife and toil of the century been a dream.