The singing of the sea, never rising into those shrill upper notes which bode disaster, nor sinking into the deep lower tones through which the awful thunder of the elements breaks, came to us as out of the depths of an infinite repose.

The youth of an untroubled world was in it.

The joy of effortless activities breathed through it.

We felt that we were once more in the morning of the world's day, and hope gave the keynote to all our thought.

Life is divided between hope and memory; when memory holds the chief place, the shadows are lengthening and the day declining.
It was one of the pleasures of the island that we were alone upon it.
There was no trace of any other human occupation, although we never forgot those who had been before us in these enchanting scenes.