856 ISLES OF SUMMER. 
Brooklyn from her heights, Jersey City from her lowly position 
upon the shore, and New York from behind her shipping, seemed 
to waft us pleasant greetings. Our fellow passengers thronged 
the deck of the Austin, and exchanged cards and congratulations. 
We again found that the love of native land is intensified by ab- 
- sence. Exile hallows and makes home more sacred. The earth- 
ly home suggested the heavenly, and we repeated the poet’s ap- 
propriate and tuneful numbers— | 
“Lone voyager on time’s sea! 
When my dull night of being shall be past, 
O may I waken in a land at last, 
Welcome as this to me!” 
