Here the lightning kept on longer, and thunderbolts fell in the sea all about.

Up to this time I was bound for New York; but when all was over I rose, made sail, and hove the sloop round from starboard to port tack, to make for a quiet harbor to think the matter over; and so, under short sail, she reached in for the coast of Long Island, while I sat thinking and watching the lights of coasting-vessels which now began to appear in sight.
Reflections of the voyage so nearly finished stole in upon me now; many tunes I had hummed again and again came back once more.

I found myself repeating fragments of a hymn often sung by a dear Christian woman of Fairhaven when I was rebuilding the _Spray_.

I was to hear once more and only once, in profound solemnity, the metaphorical hymn: By waves and wind I'm tossed and driven.
And again: But still my little ship outbraves The blust'ring winds and stormy waves.
After this storm I saw the pilot of the _Pinta_ no more.
The experiences of the voyage of the _Spray_, reaching over three years, had been to me like reading a book, and one that was more and more interesting as I turned the pages, till I had come now to the last page of all, and the one more interesting than any of the rest.
When daylight came I saw that the sea had changed color from dark green to light.

I threw the lead and got soundings in thirteen fathoms.