green-gloomed

Updated: June 10, 2025

After all, it was not much like my picture of the great world, this lonely sea, this plunging up from billow on to billow, this burrowing down in the heart of green-gloomed hollows, this rocking and creaking and straining, this buoyant bounding over the crests, yet the freedom, the monotony, the wild career of the winds fired me; it set my blood a-tingle; I liked it.

Various - The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 11, No. 63, January, 1863