ship, sailing sunsetward. Catching the vapory fire, she seems to
become a phantom,--a ship of gold mist: all her spars and sails
are luminous, and look like things seen in dreams.

Crimsoning more and more, the sun drops to the sea. The phantom
ship approaches him,--touches the curve of his glowing face,
sails right athwart it! Oh, the spectral splendor of that
vision! The whole great ship in full sail instantly makes an
acute silhouette against the monstrous disk,--rests there in the
very middle of the vermilion sun. His face crimsons high above
her top-masts,--broadens far beyond helm and bowsprit. Against
this weird magnificence, her whole shape changes color: hull,
masts, and sails turn black--a greenish black.

Sun and ship vanish together in another minute. Violet the
night comes; and the rigging of the foremast cuts a cross upon
the face of the moon.



II.


Morning: the second day. The sea is an extraordinary blue,--
looks to me something like violet ink. Close by the ship, where
the foam-clouds are, it is beautifully mottled,--looks like blue
marble with exquisite veinings and nebulosities.... Tepid wind,
and cottony white clouds,--cirri climbing up over the edge of the
sea all around. The sky is still pale blue, and the horizon is
full of a whitish haze.