Enchained by the innumerable of modern city existence, how strangely, how sweetly, do the dreams of roaming amid of perpetual summer come to the pale slave of . Leaning back in his office chair, the pen drops idly from his relaxed fingers, while the remorseless hum from the human hive without loses its note and becomes by some strange transmutation the of snowy surf upon far-off coral shores. The dim ceiling, that so often has seemed to press upon his brain like the load of , melts upward into a of a blue so deep and pure that it is the last expression of the Infinite.
On the wings of fancy, swifter and more easeful than those of the albatross, he is to those fairy shores where Nature smiles in changeless youth and winterless glow. Through every weary sinew thrills the bright message of life, the unconscious outcome of perfect health absorbed from perfect surroundings. He is back again in the days of the world’s , feeling his mid-millennial bounding in every pulse, flooding every . In cunningly-fashioned canoe, with grass-woven sails, he floats upon the radiant sea, so like to the heaven[72] above that his shallop seems to swing through the ether, a sprite, a fay of the fruitful brain.
Then as the flood-tide of living bubbles over the brim of restraint he lifts a voice, a full-throated cry of joy wherein is no speech nor language, only music welling up from deeps of satisfaction. He springs , with flashing eyes, and rolling muscles heaving under his shining skin, such a figure as, made in His own glorious image, the Master gazed upon—and, , it was very good. Far below him swim the gorgeous sea-folk, each with colour, living jewels enhanced by their setting. In mazy evolutions full of grace they woo him to join in their play, to explore with them the splendours of the coral , to wreath about his form the tender festoons of sea-flowers and deck himself with glowing shells.
Like a dolphin he dives, deeper and deeper as with grasping hands he overcomes the resisting waters. Deeper and deeper yet until the sunshine is into a milder, tenderer light, and everything around is enwrapped in a beauty-mist, a illusion that melts all angles into curves of loveliness. He enters into the palaces of the deep, and all the skill of builders on earth becomes to his mind a thing of . Interminable rows of columns, all symmetrical, each perfect in beauty, yet none alike, are arrayed before him; massy architraves, light-springing from their as bubbles, yet in so vast that their limits are lost in shadow, slender of pearl, soaring[73] upward like vapour-wreaths: and all interwoven with the design a fairy tracery of stone, appearing light and as sea . The happy living things troop to meet him and sweep in many a delicate whirl around until, recalled by the need of upper air, he waves them farewell and .
Oh! the fierce delight of that swift upward rush, the culminating as he bounds into the palpitating air above and lies, so softly cradled, upon the wave! There for a season he floats, drinking deep of the brine- air, every touch of the sea a , every heart-beat a well-spring of pleasure. Then with a shout he himself forward as if he too were a free citizen of the ocean, with almost equal grace the spring of the and the marvellous succession of curves presented by the overwhelming whale. He claims kindred with them all, embraces them; clinging lovingly to their smooth sides he frolics with them, rejoicing in the plenitude of their untainted strength.
Before him rise the islands, of emerald bases of silver sand. Willowy palm-trees dip their roots in the warm wavelets and rear their tufted coronets on high. Darker-leaved, the orange-trees their branches shot with golden gleams where the fruit hangs heavily, filling the gentle air with . Bright-plumaged birds flash amongst the verdure; along the glittering shores rest the sea-fowl returned from their harvesting and comforting their broods. With huge steps he strides shorewards, and springing lightly from the sand, he reaches in a dozen bounds the crown of the loftiest[74] palm, whose thickly-clustering fruit bids him drink and drink again.
The island folk him not; fear has not yet visited those sunny shores. And as he was with the sea-people so is he with their compeers on land, a trusted playfellow, a creature perfect in glory and beauty, able to vie with them in their superb activities, their amazing play of vigour, their joy in the gifts of Nature.
After those sunny , how sweet the rest on yielding couch of leaves, fanned by sweet laden with the subtle of luxuriant flowers, and by the slumber-song of the friendly sea. Around him, with wing, nestle the birds; the bejewelled insects their busy songs into tenderest , the green leaves hang in unrustling shade, noiselessly waving over him a cool breath. There is peace and sleep.
“Awake, O !” cry the birds; “awake and live! Joy comes anew. Love and life and strength a............