And if I pray, the only prayer
That moves my lips for me,
Is, leave the mind that now I bear,
And give me Liberty.--_Emily Bronte._
I travel on not knowing,
I would not if I might;
I would rather walk with God in the dark,
Than go alone in the light;
I would rather walk with Him by faith
Than pick my way by sight
MY NATIVE SAND AND SALT ONCE MORE
_July 25, '81_.--Far Rockaway, L. I._--A good day here, on a jaunt,
amid the sand and salt, a steady breeze setting in from the sea, the
sun shining, the sedge-odor, the noise of the surf, a mixture of
hissing and booming, the milk-white crest curling. I had a leisurely
bath and naked ramble as of old, on the warm-gray shore-sands, my
companions off in a oat in deeper water--(I shouting to them Jupiter's
menaces against the gods, from Pope's Homer) _July 28--to Long
Branch_--8-1/2 A.M., on the steamer "Plymouth Rock," foot of 23d
street, New York, for Long Branch. Another fine day, fine sights, the
shores, the shipping and bay--everything comforting to the body and
spirit of me. (I find the human and objective atmosphere of New York
city and Brooklyn more affiliative to me than any other.) _An hour
later_--Still on the steamer, now sniffing the salt very plainly--the
long pulsating _swash_ as our boat steams seaward--the hills of
Navesink and many passing vessels--the air the best part of all. At
Long Branch the bulk of the day, stopt at a good hotel, took all very
leisurely, had an excellent dinner, and then drove for over two hours
about the place, especially Ocean avenue, the finest drive one can
imagine, seven or eight miles right along the beach.
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