H. Rider Haggard,
Moon of Israel: A Tale of the Exodus
“ The white vase of alabaster, however shapely, is still a vase alone; it is the hidden lamp within that graces it with the glory of a star. And those eyes, those large, dreaming eyes aswim with tears and hued like richest lapis-lazuli, oh! what man could look on them and not be stirred? “Merapi!” I whispered. “Moon of Israel!” murmured Seti, “filled with the moon, lovely as the moon, mystic as the moon and worshipping the moon, her mother.” “She is in trouble; let us help her,” I said. “Nay, wait a while, Ana, for never again shall you and I see such a sight as this.” ”
