From Willa Cather's "The Bohemian Girl"
The moonlight flooded that land. The land was great, and silent. The reaped
field lay in it. The field was yellow. The straw stacks and poplar windbreaks
threw sharp black shadows. The roads were white rivers of dust. The sky was
a deep, crystalline blue. And the stars were few. And they were faint. Everything
seemed to have succumbed. It seemed to have sunk to sleep, under the
midsummer moon. The moon was great, golden, and tender. The splendor of it
seemed to transcend human life. And it seemed to transcend human fate. The
senses were too feeble to take it in. And every time one looked up at the sky one
felt unequal to it. It was as if one were deaf and sitting under the waves of a
great river of melody.
Willa Cather. Collected Short Fiction 1892-1912. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1965. p.54.