A Morning at Sea.
my berth by 9 and slept soundly.
15. Friday. Up by 7. On the upper deck all
the morning, reading �Examiners� and �Athen�ums,�
sent to me from England, and doing a little
rhyming, which I may put in, as it involves
an attempt at description of the morning:
The western wind blows fresh and free,
The sun in the east shines gloriously
Over the tumbling, restless sea,
Which, from the near horizon�s line
To our vessel�s edge, is all ashine
With paly gold, save where the brine
Is crossed by shadows from on high,
From the faint clouds lingering in the sky;
While everywhere else around is seen
White wave-tops and the ocean green.
On the upper deck of the steamer, I
Sit lazily watching the sea and sky,
Listening the swash and monotonous sweep
Of the many-voiced multitudinous deep.
x x x x x
By 10 A.M. we passed Cape Hatteras;
the day warm and beautiful, grew colder
as it progressed; the night was fine, with