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Updated: May 26, 2025
As soon as I heard of the wreck of the Jingo, and that you were the only passenger drowned, I recognized an artifice, un vieux truc, by which you hoped to escape from a mother of whom you were ashamed. You had only pretended to be the victim of Ocean's rage! People who are drowned in novels always do reappear: and, Percy, your mother is an old novel-reader!
He was a great black-backed gull, immense, austere, and cruel, with eyes as cold as the waves whose glitter they reflected, and a heart as implacable as the storm that cherished it; sea-rover, pillager, pirate, swashbuckler, son of the storm in whose fierce buffetings he rejoiced, master of the gale upon whose fury he flourished the very spirit of the ocean's frontiers, arrayed in the spotless uniform of the sea, sailing under her bold colors.
Other rocks of a much harder nature, composed in part of the shells of inexpressible multitudes of Ocean's infusoria, were laid down from the superincumbent sea. Still the delicate ripple marks were preserved. Nature's vast library was being formed, and on this scrap of a leaf not a letter was lost. Beside this stone now lies another of the purest white.
When she called at their hotel about ten o'clock, she was informed that they had all gone down to the beach; and as they could not be expected to return very soon, Miss Panney betook herself to the ocean's edge to look for them. She found a wide stretch of sand crowded with bathers and spectators.
In the presence of a genius like Pablo de Sarasate they are more or less perplexed, it is as though you ask them to describe in set, cold terms the counterpoint and thoroughbass of the wind's symphony to the trees, the great ocean's sonata to the shore, or the delicate madrigals sung almost inaudibly by little bell-blossoms to the tinkling fall of April rain.
Here the tracts around display How impetuous ocean's sway Once with wasteful fury spread The wild waves o'er each mountain's head.
The last seen of the father, whose last living act was to save his babes, he was waving his hand in a final parting. Then the Titanic plunged to the ocean's bed. Still more pitiable in one way was the lot of the baby survivor, eleven-months-old Travers Allison, the only member of a family of four to survive the wreck.
Yet high above the beat of surf, and Ocean's deep resounding, And high above the tempest roar of wind on wave rebounding, There's a burst of choral chanting, as of victors in a fight, And a battle hymn of triumph wakes the echoes of the night, And the shouts of heroes mingle with the shriekings of affright As Time rolls on!
Yesterday forth-far'd Zeus to a feast with the Æthiops blameless, Far over ocean's stream, and the rest of the Gods in attendance; Twelve are the signified days ere again he returns to Olympus. Instantly then will I pass to the brass-built dome of the Highest, There will I cling to his knees, and I think he will hear my petition."
The supernumeraries were all discharged into their respective ships; and before we separated, we had the pleasure to see the first lieutenant take his passage in a ship bound to England. Most sincerely did we congratulate ourselves on the success of our intrigue. Where the remote Bermudas ride, In th' ocean's bosom.
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