We were particularly impressed with the beauty of the coast near
Newport.
At one place lovely velvety meadows run down near the
sea and form a remarkable contrast to most ocean views. Here we
saw a group of dark gray rocks which formed a sort of a
promontory that jutted out into the ocean. So fantastic did
these rocks appear from a distance that we readily peopled them
with sirens. Standing on the shore opposite them, we watched the
breakers dash themselves to pieces at their feet and the gulls,
those fairy squadrons of air craft, whirling above them. The
bell on the buoy gave forth its warning sound, but the siren
voices kept calling from rocks with a melody that was
irresistible, and heeding not the threnody of the bell, we were
soon looking down in triumph at the broken array of restless
waters from the hollow crest of a great boulder.
>From this point the sea appears as a vast poem, "one of those
charming idyls in which no element of beauty or power is
lacking." From this rough pulpit of masonry we gazed at the
booming breakers rolling in with their crests of gleaming
silver, that were shattered to fragments immediately below us.
Their long sprays of phosphorescent blossoms vanished like stars
in the golden light of dawn. The sea was now bathed in a flood
of mellow light and its gradations of color revealed palest
amethyst along the horizon, while nearer it glowed with
brightest sapphire.
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