Chill wind of
adversity causes to wilt and droop and lose their fragrance.
"Now the cool forenoon serenity of the ocean is no longer
profaned." They have followed the siren voices of this
bewildering region until they have arrived on some shoals that
hint of a coming winter, and emerge with duller plumes like
birds of passage, ready to flock to sunnier climes. They remind
one, too, of the gorgeous colored butterflies which flew about
all summer, at first things of beauty, dazzling the eye with
their brilliant colors; haunting the most fragrant flowers for
nectar, reveling in the sunshine the whole day long. Now they
appear in their torn and faded robes to hover over a few pale
flowers as if "loath to leave the scenes of their summer's
revelings."
Only the more hardy remain to enjoy the grandeur of the winter
ocean like the chickadees and cardinal grosbeaks that enliven
our winter woods. The many flowered asters remain regal and
cheery though a thousands winds may blow. Those who see the real
beauty and indescribable grandeur of the ocean here, if they
cannot remain, will show evidences in their beneficent lives
that they have had a wonderful summer by the sea. Here amid the
most beautiful manifestations of Nature's power and grandeur
they have gained broader hopes, higher aspirations and a purer
life. They leave the frivolous things of life on its remotest
shores, where a few returning tides bury them in the sands of
forgetfulness or the receding waves wash them like clams far out
to sea.
Look at the fate of summer flowers,
Which blow at daybreak, droop ere evensong
And, grieved for their brief date, confess that ours
Measured by what we are and ought to be,
Measured by all that, trembling we foresee,
Is not so long!
The deepest grove whose foliage hid
The happiest lovers' Arcady might boast,
Could not the entrance of this thought forbid:
O be thou wise as they, soul-gifted maid!
Nor rate too high what must so quickly fade,
So soon be lost!
Then shall love teach some virtuous youth
To draw out of the object of his eyes
The whilst they gaze on thee in simple truth
Hues more exalted a refined form,
That dreads not age, nor suffers from the worm,
And never dies! - Wordsworth.
CHAPTER VI
HURRIED FLIGHT THROUGH NEW JERSEY
An eight-hour drive through the interior of New Jersey is
attended with much interest and some surprises. Leaving Camden,
which is reached by ferry across the Delaware from Philadelphia,
the road traverses many miles of level, sandy country which is
almost entirely given over to truck gardening and poultry
raising.
