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Thoreau, Henry David, 1817-1862

"A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers"

And at midnight, when all
around and overhead was darkness, I have seen a field of
trembling, silvery light far out on the sea, the reflection of
the moonlight from the ocean, as if beyond the precincts of our
night, where the moon traversed a cloudless heaven,--and
sometimes a dark speck in its midst, where some fortunate vessel
was pursuing its happy voyage by night.
But to us river sailors the sun never rose out of ocean waves,
but from some green coppice, and went down behind some dark
mountain line. We, too, were but dwellers on the shore, like the
bittern of the morning; and our pursuit, the wrecks of snails and
cockles. Nevertheless, we were contented to know the better one
fair particular shore.
My life is like a stroll upon the beach,
As near the ocean's edge as I can go,
My tardy steps its waves sometimes o'erreach,
Sometimes I stay to let them overflow.
My sole employment 't is, and scrupulous care,
To place my gains beyond the reach of tides,
Each smoother pebble, and each shell more rare,
Which ocean kindly to my hand confides.


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