form and void, even as its fellows were; but as we drew nearer--for we
were steaming toward it across a sea of sapphire,--it brooded upon the
face of the water, while the clouds that had hung about it were
scattered and wafted away.

Thus was an island born to us of sea and sky,--an island whose peak was
sky-kissed, whose vales were overshadowed by festoons of vapor, whose
heights were tipped with sunshine, and along whose shore the sea sang
softly, and the creaming breakers wreathed themselves, flashed like
snow-drifts, vanished and flashed again. The sea danced and sparkled;
the air quivered with vibrant light. Along the border of that island the
palm-trees towered and reeled, and all its gardens breathed perfume such
as I had never known or dreamed of.

For a few hours only we basked in its beauty, rejoiced in it, gloried in
it; and then we passed it by. Even as it had risen from the sea it
returned into its bosom and was seen no more. Twilight stole in between
us, and the night blotted it out forever. Forever?

I wonder what island it was? A pearl of the Antilles, surely; but its
name and fame, its history and mystery are lost to me. Its memory lives
and is as green as ever. No wintry blasts visit it; even the rich dyes
of autumn do not discolor it. It is perennial in its rare beauty,
unfading, unforgotten, unforgettable; a thing immutable, immemorial--I
had almost said immortal.

Whence it came and whither it has gone I know not. It had its rising and
its setting; its day from dawn to dusk was perfect. Doubtless there are
those whose lives have been passed within its tranquil shade: from
generation to generation it has known all that they have known of joy or