Explore "Hōrai" by Lafcadio Hearn on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Blue vision of depth lost in height,-sea and sky interblending through luminous haze. The day is of spring, and the hour morning.
Only sky and sea,-one azure enormity. In the fore, ripples are catching a silvery light, and threads of foam are swirling. But a little further off no motion is visible, nor anything save color: dim warm blue of water widening away to melt into blue of air. Horizon there is none: only distance soaring into space,-infinite concavity hollowing before you, and hugely arching above you,-the color deepening with the height. But far in the midway-blue there hangs a faint, faint vision of palace towers, with high roofs horned and curved like moons,-some shadowing of splendor strange and old, illumined by a sunshine soft as memory.