In this way they went on, and on, and on--in the language of the story-books--until at last the village lights appeared before them, and the church spire cast a long reflection on the graveyard grass as if it were a dial (alas, the truest in the world) marking, whatever light shone out of Heaven, the flight of days and weeks and years, by some new shadow on that solemn ground. (Charles Dickens)

In this way they went on, and on, and on--in the language of the story-books--until at last the village lights appeared before them, and the church spire cast a long reflection on the graveyard grass as if it were a dial (alas, the truest in the world) marking, whatever light shone out of Heaven, the flight of days and weeks and years, by some new shadow on that solemn ground.

Charles Dickens

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alas cast church dial flight went grass graveyard ground heaven language last light lights marking reflection shadow shine spire village way whatever world years days

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