And Now, Without Having Wearied My Friends,

On This Day There Was Soon Wind Enough And To Spare. The Same Might Have Been Said Of The Sea. The Spray Was In The Midst Of The Turbulent Gulf Stream Itself. She Was Jumping Like A Porpoise Over The Uneasy Waves

But Where, After All, Would Be The Poetry Of The Sea Were There No Wild Waves?

Was The Crew Well? Was I Not? I Had Profited In Many Ways By The Voyage. I Had Even Gained Flesh, And Actually Weighed A Pound More Than When I Sailed From Boston.

To Young Men Contemplating A Voyage I Would Say Go.

About Midnight The Fog Shut Down Again Denser Than Before. One Could Almost "stand On It." It Continued So For A Number Of Days, The Wind Increasing To A Gale. The Waves Rose High, But I Had A Good Ship. Still, In The Dismal Fog I Felt Myself Drifting Into Loneliness, An Insect On The Straw In The Midst Of The Elements.