the grass-lands rolled against the hills that clustered at their feet, and flowed up into many valleys still dim and dark, untouched by the light of dawn, winding their way into the heart of the green mountains. far inward they glimpsed a tumbled mountain-mass with one tall peek; at the mouth of the vale there stood like a sentinel a lonely height. about its feet there flowed, as a thread of silver, the stream that issued from the dale; upon its brow they caught, still far away, a glint in the rising sun, a glimmer of gold.
@litladiesnetwork’s second event ➝ favorite minor female characters ↳ ophelia, hamlet
there’s fennel for you, and columbines. there’s rue for you, and here’s some for me. we may call it herb of grace o’ sundays. o, you must wear your rue with a difference! there’s a daisy. i would give you some violets, but they wither’d all when my father died.
even as pippin gazed in wonder the walls passed from looming grey to white, blushing faintly in the dawn; and suddenly the sun climbed over the eastern shadow and sent forth a shaft that smote the face of the city. then pippin cried aloud, for the tower of ecthelion, standing high within the topmost wall, shone out against the sky, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, tall and fair and shapely, and its pinnacle glittered as if it were wrought of crystals; and white banners broke and fluttered from the battlements in the morning breeze, and high and far he heard a clear ringing as of silver trumpets.