The races of men shift and hover like shadows over her
surface, while, as a woman dries her garment before the household
flame, she turns it, by portions, now to and now from the sun heart
of fire. Oh joy that all the hideous lacerations and vile gatherings
of refuse which the worshippers of mammon disfigure the earth withal,
scoring the tale of their coming dismay on the visage of their
mother, shall one day lie fathoms deep under the blessed ocean,
to be cleansed and remade into holy because lovely forms! May the
ghosts of the men who mar the earth, turning her sweet rivers into
channels of filth, and her living air into irrespirable vapours
and pestilences, haunt the desolations they have made, until they
loathe the work of their hands, and turn from themselves with a
divine repudiation.
It was about half tide, and the sea coming up, with the wind straight
from the north, when Malcolm, having descended to the shore of
the little bay, and scrambled out upon the rocks, bethought him of
a certain cave which he had not visited since he was a child, and
climbing over the high rocks between, took shelter there from the
wind. He had forgotten how beautiful it was, and stood amazed at
the richness of its colour, imagining he had come upon a cave of
the serpentine marble which is found on the coast; for sides and
roof and rugged floor were gorgeous with bands and spots and veins
of green, and rusty red. A nearer inspection, however, showed that
these hues were not of the rock itself but belonged to the garden
of the ocean, and when he turned to face the sea, lo! they had
all but vanished, the cave shone silvery gray, with a faint moony
sparkle, and out came the lovely carving of the rodent waves.
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