File:The Argosy (1865) (14764551002).jpg

Identifier: argosythe48wood (find matches)
Title: The Argosy
Year: 1865 (1860s)
Authors: Wood, Henry, Mrs., 1814-1887 Wood, Charles W. (Charles William), b. 1850?
Subjects:
Publisher: London (etc.) R. Bentley (etc.)
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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the poets have sung, and will continue tosing as long as the world lasts. Day after day our coachman had taken us a fresh drive, lastingsome six or eight hours. Day after day we had seen new beauties.Day after day, instead of contracting, the small island seemed toexpand and grow larger. In our drives every now and then wewould come upon lovely, long avenues, where the trees met over-head, and we traced the delicate interlacing of the branches and alltheir ramifications ; and the tender green of the fresh spring leavesseemed to infuse into one their own hfe and health and vigour, andthe blue sky and the sunshine glinted and flashed as the breezemoved and rustled the smiling verdure. All nature rejoiced, andwe rejoiced with her. It was impossible not to catch the spiritand tone of our surroundings. The most stricken heart must havefound its sorrows subdued and brightened, whilst those whom for themoment sorrow touched not, might rise to the highest point otenthusiasm and exhilaration.
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H W <O A Week in Jersey, 517 But nothing lasts for ever, and our turn came for departing. Weleft with sorrow. We had had a wonderfully quiet and happy timein Jersey, without one drawback to record, one incident to regret.Uninterrupted sunshine had attended and gilded our days. The last morning dawned, and we left with mutual regrets. Themorning was brilliant with sunshine as we went down to the quay,which is far quieter at the departure than the arrival of a vessel.The little boat for St. Malo, whither we were bound, was gettingup steam. Of the few passengers on board, some looked laden withthe spoils of Jersey. Butter and eggs seemed in the ascendant;and yet to take butter to Normandy and Brittany would surely be aswise as taking coals to Newcastle. Before long we had passed beyond the piers. Out on the broadwater, there were innumerable rocks about our path, but we cun-ningly steered through them all. The sea was calm and beautiful.Never had it looked clearer and more transparent

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