You can hear the wind blow and feel the salt in your hair as you read it.

I once heard it read by Richard Dana to the Phi Beta Kappa Society at Harvard, and again by that most accomplished elocutionist, E.Harlow Russell.

I never read it or hear it without a renewed admiration.
But the brightest, raciest, wittiest, liveliest, spunkiest of all the youths was Daniel Sargent Curtis, one of the race of that name so well known in Boston for excellence in various departments.

Curtis was the son, I believe, of Thomas B.
Curtis, the merchant, a nephew of Charles P.Curtis, the eminent lawyer, and a cousin of Judge Benjamin R.Curtis.
I do not know what he would not have made of himself if he had cultivated his great literary capacity.

Certainly if he had performed the promise of his boyhood he would have been one of the foremost men in American literature.