H poet of tbe poor 



Were sunshine wine upon my board. 



Boozy every day I 'd be ; 

 Were I a miser I would hoard 



All the sapphire of the sea. 



OF all things pertaining to sedentary 

 experiences, what is like a long after- 

 noon in a hammock, when the sea-wind has 

 free salt — as the chemists would say — on 

 the edge of its breath? A book to read 

 must be a part of the thing, — an old book, 

 the older the better, — and there must be a 

 wide view of the " merry multitudinous 

 waves," — xoiidrcav av'/]fji6[iov YsXaajia, — with 

 sails, not steam-flares, hanging aslant over 

 rusty hulls on the horizon. 



Most people dream of riches when they 

 swing idly ; but I have had a delicious reve- 

 rie over the pinched conditions of absolute 



98 



