164 



CHAPTER VI. 



I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining, 



A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on : 

 I came, when the sun o'er that beach was declining, 



The bark was still there, but the waters were gone. 



Ah ! such is the fate of our life's early promise, 

 So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known : 



Each wave that we danced on at morning ebbs from us, 

 And leaves us, at eve, on the black shore alone. 



THOMAS MOOEE. 



THERE is yet another year's diurnal extant, the 

 final, and the most complete portion which has 

 come down to us ; and in perusing it for the period 

 it covers, viz., the whole of 1823, it will be obvious 

 that some entries have been retained less on account of 

 their general than their local interest, and for the pur- 

 pose of more fully exhibiting the author in his daily life, 

 views, and sentiments, his business and his pleasures. 

 It is scarcely probable that journals of such fulness 

 as those for the years 1822 and 1823 would not have 

 been preceded, and, for a time at all events, followed 

 by compilations of the same method ; but these which 

 are now published are all that have been discovered, 

 and all that are supposed to exist. They have been 



