THE WATERS. 



SEA-COAST. 



How grand is the ever-moving ocean ! how majestic its 

 voice, how terrible its anger! how beautiful every colour 

 that is reflected from its dancing spray, and how balmy the 

 air which is wafted from its bosom to refresh the heated 

 earth, which, under the glare of a summer's sun, seems 

 parched with thirst. How refreshing to the senses is the 

 change from the dry heated grass on a midsummer day 

 from the dusty roads from the smoke -begrimed town, 

 smelling of dirt, and heated by the reflection of the sun's rays 

 from bricks and stones till it becomes a furnace from the 



