ly-ruflled deep, I thought how much sweeter it
were to feel it, while "wasting in wood-paths the voluptuous hours."

Soon afterwards a fresh wind sprung up, which increased rapidly, till
every sail was bent to the full. Our vessel parted the brine with an
arrowy glide, the ease and grace of which it is impossible to describe.
The breeze held on steadily for two or three days, which brought us to
the southern extremity of the Banks. Here the air felt so sharp and
chilling, that I was afraid we might be under the lee of an iceberg, but
in the evening the dull gray mass of clouds lifted themselves from the
horizon, and the sun set in clear, American beauty away beyond Labrador.
The next morning we were enveloped in a dense fog, and the wind which
bore us onward was of a piercing coldness. A sharp look-out was kept on
the bow, but as we could see but a short distance, it might have been
dangerous had we met one of the Arctic squadron. At noon it cleared away
again, and the bank of fog was visible a long time astern, piled along
the horizon, reminding me of the Alps, as seen from the plains of
Piedmont.

On the 31st, the fortunate wind which carried us from the Banks, failed
us about thirty-five miles from Sandy Hook. We lay in the midst of the
mackerel fishery, with small schooners anchored all around us. Fog,
dense and impenetrable, weighed on the moveless ocean, like an
atmosphere of wool. The only incident to break the horrid monotony of
the day, was the arrival of a pilot, with one or two newspapers,
detailing the account of the Mexican War. We heard in the afternoon the
booming of the surf along the low beach of Long Island--hollow and
faint, like the murmur of a shell. When the mist lifted a little, we
saw the faint line of breakers along the shore. The Germans gathered on
deck to sing their old, familiar songs, and their voices blended
beautifully together in the stillness.

Next morning at sunrise we saw Sandy Hook; at nine o'clock we were
telegraphed in New York by the station at Coney Island; at eleven the
steamer "Hercules" met us outside the Hook; and at noon we were gliding
up the Narrows, with the whole ship's company of four hundred persons on
deck, gazing on the beautiful shores of Staten Island and agreeing
almost universally, that it was the most delightful scene they had ever
looked upon.

And now I close the story of my long wandering, as I began it--with a
lay written on the deep.

HOMEWARD BO