[Manchester—Friday, 21 August 1868]
Friday 21st How speedily these lovely days whirl away. I could almost grieve over their swift flight if it were not that their swiftness brings us nearer to an immortal and immutable glory. The chief incident of every day is a morning walk! Yet nothing could be filled with more varied or purer excitement for the whole spirit.
We passed Wed. aft. & eve. at the Dana’s—over on their wonderful island. The red color of the rocks there and the fervent browns and olive greens of the seaweed on the outward, or sea verge of the island are more beautiful than I have ever seen elsewhere.
How interesting to see this large family. The old man of eighty with his monarchical ideas, is never so well or happy as at this place, whose feudal-like aspect delights him. His son (“Two Years” Dana) finds room to gratify his wild spirit of adventure in a less stirring fashion perhaps than in round the world voyages, but I could see as he took me down into a deep cavern by the sea far below tide water how the wild spirit of that unfrequented spot took hold of him and made his spirit run to meet that other in exaltation.
I sit behind my tulip tree with the blue sky shining beyond, with a table of delicious books before me and the voice of the sea calling to me and I feel, when my love comes, that life has nothing more to ask!
Lucy Larcom passed Friday here.
