It was midsummer. The sun had been hot all the day, and when on that
evening two men reined in the horses they were driving, and paused on
the summit of a small hill, a cool breeze reached them, and they bared
their heads to the refreshing air. Not a word was spoken as they gazed
on the scene before them; its grandeur and beauty were too vast for
words.
Before them, to the west, lay the city, the object of their long
journey--before them, it lay as a queen in the midst of her
surroundings. At first sight, it seemed one immense palace, rather than
a city of palaces, as the second view indicated. Street after street,
mansion after mansion, the city stretched away as far as the eye could
reach, mingling with trees and gardens.
Rising from the center of the city was the temple. Its walls shone like
polished marble, and its towers seemed to pierce the sky, as around
about them a white cloud hung. This cloud extended from the temple as a
center, over the whole city, and seemed as it were a covering.
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