The gold leaf. [volume] (Henderson, N.C.) 1881-1911, 1908-09-03
By the Sounding Sea.

respite IIOIIl LdDol III LILO
tening to the Voice of the
Waters-Born Without a
Soul is He Who Can Look
at the Ocean After Nighfall
and Stand Unmoved.
Editor st. Clair, of the Sanford
Express, recently spent awhile at
Wriyhtsvile Beach, the Newport
Of North Carolina, and writes in
this vein of the emotions produced
by the voice of the waters not un-
mingled with the whisperings OF
maidens fair. We publish it because
those who have experienced for them
selves and know something OF the
beauty and pleasure and soul-ex-
panding effect OF a visit to the sea,
can appreciate it:
Time writes nc wrinkles on thine azure
brow
Such as creations dawn beheld, thou roilest
now
We sat one night last week at the
third-story veranda of the larry
more Hotel on Wrightsville Beach
listening. to the voice OF the waters.
Out there in front OF us was the mel
ancholy, long withdrawing roar OF
the wild waves, such as Saddened the
heart of TennysOn when he sang OF
the sailor boy, and made Matthew
Arnold cry. Love, let US be true to
one another" On the white, wind
beaten beach insects were stirling.
4 shower OF rain had fallen III the
late afternoon, but the last OF the
clouds had drifted out to sea and the
sky was fair Presently there shone
Il golden ball of fire above the rim OF
the ocean, and even while we watched
the simple face of the moon came out
Of the water and 9aZed down at US.
Through the darkness she drove Il
shining path across the water. which
required but little imagination to
transform into the ladder which ia
cob saw in his dream. The sinuOus
motion of the silver-white waves
might seem anything; might well
seem angels ascending and descend
ING between the water and the stars.
But on either side of this many
lighted, ascending avenue the dark
ness prevailed We had to look with
close attention to see the fOaming
breakers reach out, take hands and
tumble over the sand-bars together
-whte-armed monsters of the deep
at play.
what are you thinking about,
Charlie?" said 1t beautiful girl to the
young man who sat at her side.
"Nothing Not thinking at all this
evening"" was his answer.
He was Il society man, but he
couldn't resist the spell OF the ocean
and he spoke for us ALL AS Keats
| says of eternity, it leased us out OF
thought and left nothing but a great,
unutterable longing, full OF mystic
memories, full of hereditary, ances-
trail voices, sweet snatches OF Old
song and dateless sorrows. He was
born without soul who can look at
the ocean after nightfall and stand
unmOved.
And vet where one faced tow I'd the
Atlantic and babe his soul grow vast
a hundred looked at another picture
on the floor of the brilliantly lighted
| Lumina down near the end of the lit
tie island. Up the beach the melody
of the music fioated on the bosom OF
the soft sea winds, and we too were
soon at the place
. ''Where the youthful dancers meet
With laughing lips and winged feet,
! And golden locks come flashing
| Like sudden sunshine through the sky
The girl who smiled up in one man S
eyes, feeling his strong arm around
| her, their white-shOd feet twinkling
and their bodies swaying to the sin
uous wave-motion-the old sea has
seen her come and 90 along its shores
since Helen of Troy was young or
Cleopatra made Anthony desert his
empire, or Mary, Queen OF SCOTS,
played her fascinating game with
men, 1t is II common thought that
the old sea could tell a thousand
strange stories il it would. But we
turned our back to the water and
followed the girl, her cheek all pur-
| pie with the beam of youth and
mounting to Il transparent glow.
The sea is eternal, but the girl is
transient. Yet better an hour with
her than an age of land and sea
without her. For one song of the
sea there have been ten thousand
songs of her, and men will sing of her
till the sea gives up its dead.
The next morning we got up early
to see the sun rise, but clouds OBJ
scured the sky. At eight o'clock the
sea was gray, at ten it was emerald
and at twelve it was blue. Since the
sky is a thing of infinite variety, SO
must be the ocean, its mirror. Gulls
| and gasOlene boats haunted the
sound. but not sail or gray wing
went across the main 4 pOrpost
was the nearest thing to a sea ser
pent that we saw. We looked for a
mermaid to thrust her golden curls
out OF the waves and we listened fOI
the song of the sirens, but we saw
not the one nor heard the other.
At this season OF the year wher
people most need rest and recreation
then it is the sea is most alluring
Cloud and sky and wave and white
cap wear their most inviting aspect
and the breeze is soft and cool. Ev
cry one who can should spend some
time on thesea shore in the good ole
summer time He will come away
refreshed and toned up by contact
i