But where, after all, would be the poetry of the sea were there no wild waves?

...as the day wore on I watched the birds all flying in one direction, and said, Land lies there.

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.

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.

I was born in the breezes, and I had studied the sea as perhaps few men have studied it, neglecting all else.

As for myself, the wonderful sea charmed me from the first.

Remember, Lord, my ship is small and thy sea is so wide!