,
Portugal, where we remained three days viewing the architectural and
natural sights of the great commercial and shipping city of the Tagus.

About the middle of May we swung out again into the breakers of old ocean,
and held our course to the wonderful "Strait of Gibraltar," separating
Europe from Africa, whose inland, classic shores are bathed by the emerald
waters of the romantic Mediterranean Sea.

We remained for a day at the rocky, stormy town of Gibraltar, meeting
variegated men of all lands, who spoke all dialects, and preached and
practiced all religions.

The pagan, the Moslem, the Buddhist, the Jew and the Christian dressed in
the garb of their respective nationalities, were wrangling, trading,
praying and swearing in all languages, every one grasping for the "almighty
dollar."

As the sun went down over the shining shoulders of the Western Atlantic,
flashing its golden rays over the moving, liquid floor of the heaving ocean
and Mediterranean Sea, William and myself stood on the topmost crag of
giant Gibraltar, and the Bard sent forth this impulsive sigh from his
romantic soul:

_How I long to roam o'er the bounding sea,
Where the waters and winds are fierce and free,
Where the wild bird sails in his tireless flight,
As the sunrise scatters the shades of night;
Where the porpoise and dolphin sport at play
In their liquid realm of green and gray.
Ah, me! It is there I would love to be
Engulfed in the tomb of eternity!_

_In the midnight hour when the moon hangs low
And the stars beam forth with a mystic glow;
When the mermaids float on the rolling tide
And Neptune entangles his beaming bride,--
It is there in that phosphorescent wave
I would gladly sink in an ocean grave--
To rise and fall with the songs of the sea
And live in the chant of its memory._

_Around the world my form should sweep--
Part of the glorious, limitless deep;
Enmeshed by fate in some coral cave,
And rising again to the topmost wave,
That curls in beauty its snowy spray
And kisses the light of the garish day;
Ah! there let me drift when this life is o'er,
To be tossed and tumbled from shore to shore!_

I clapped my hands intensely at the rendition of the poem, and echo from
her rocky caves sent back the applause, while the sea gulls in their
circling flight, screamed in chorus to the voice of echo and the eternal
roar of old oc