Beautiful Words

I've been reading some of my old favorites lately.  Anne of Green Gables.  Persuasion.  Jane Eyre.  I love how descriptive these authors are, how they piece words together to create pictures.

I came across this paragraph last night in Jane Eyre:

It was now the sweetest hour of the twenty-four: "day its fervid fires had wasted," and dew fell cool on panting plain and scorched summit.  Where the sun had gone down in simple state--pure of the pomp of clouds--spread a solemn purple, burning with the light of red jewel and furnace flame at one point, on one hill peak, and extending high and wide, soft and still softer, over half heaven.  The east had its own charm of fine, deep blue, and its own modest gem, a rising and solitary star: soon it would boast the moon; but she was yet beneath the horizon.

Beautiful.