Having "lived one day," we would depart, and become worthy to live another.
We have not been fortunate in weather, for there cannot be too much, or too warm sunlight for this scene, and the skies have been lowering, with cold, unkind winds.

My nerves, too much braced up by such an atmosphere, do not well bear the continual stress of sight and sound.
For here there is no escape from the weight of a perpetual creation; all other forms and motions come and go, the tide rises and recedes, the wind, at its mightiest, moves in gales and gusts, but here is really an incessant, an indefatigable motion.

Awake or asleep, there is no escape, still this rushing round you and through you.

It is in this way I have most felt the grandeur,--somewhat eternal, if not infinite.
At times a secondary music rises; the cataract seems to seize its own rhythm and sing it over again, so that the ear and soul are roused by a double vibration.

This is some effect of the wind, causing echoes to the thundering anthem.