446 A. E. Verritt — The Bermuda Islands. 



The harbor of St. George's is a beautiful sheet of water, nearly 

 landlocked by the several islands that surround it. There are three 

 channels that enter it from the southeast, and one from the north, 

 through the swing-bridge of the causeway. But neither channel is 

 sufficiently deep to admit very large vessels, though the main chan- 

 nel was deepened to 16 feet many years ago (about 1846). The 

 question of further deepening the entrance of the main channel, at 

 the bar, has been discussed for several years, and probably this will 

 eventually be done. 



It was the harbor of St. George's that Thomas Moore referred to 

 in some of his finest descriptive verses, as well as in the notes 

 appended to his poems. But his poetical descriptions would now 

 apply equally well or better to various other localities in the Ber- 

 mudas. At the time of his residence here (1804), Hamilton had not 

 become the capital and was a place of such secondary importance 

 that he did not even mention it at all, though the islets covered with 

 cedai's are much more numerous and beautiful in its harbor. 



In the notes to one of his poems, referring to St. George's harbor,* 

 he gives the following graceful description : 



" Nothing can be more romantic than the little harbor of St. 

 George's. The number of beautiful islets, the singular clearness of 

 the water, and the animated play of the graceful little boats, gliding 

 forever between the islands, and seeming to sail from one cedar- 

 grove into another, formed altogether as lovely a miniature of 

 nature's beauties as can well be imagined." 



His description indicates that the small islands near St. George's 

 were, in 1804, more thickly covered with cedars than at present. 



* The following are the verses referred to : 



" Bright rose the morning, every wave was still, 

 When the first perfume of a cedar hill 

 Sweetly awaked us, and, with smiling charms, 

 The fairy harbor woo'd us to its arms. 

 Gently we stole, before the whispering wind, 

 Through plantain shades, that round, like awnings twined, 

 And kist on either side the wanton sails, 

 Breathing our welcome to these vernal vales ; 

 While, far reflected o'er the wave serene, 

 Each wooded island shed so soft a green 

 That the enamoured keel, with whispering play, 

 Through liquid herbage seemed to steal its way. 

 Never did weary bark more gladly glide, 

 Or rest its anchor in a lovelier tide !" 



