Golden Horn

Paris might have screamed; he would not have swerved a hair's breadth till he had gripped the Golden Horn.

All the same, it was a great sight, with its minarets and towers, its Golden Horn and crowded quays.

The next spring Orm took the golden horn and the silver ware to Drontheim where no one knew him.

The life, the colour ever changing, on the highway across the Golden Horn is extraordinarily fascinating.

It was stretched across the Golden Horn, from a tower near the apex of the promontory to one upon the northern bank.