FLORIDA DAYS.



 THE TOWN.


DAYBREAK.


 Morn, in the white wake of the morning star,
 Came furrowing all the Orient into gold."

T HE strip of water which lies between the
 island and the shore, is as gray at dawn
as the sky behind the orange-trees in the west.
It rises and falls with quick and heavy heaving,
like the bosom of a dreamer who is beginning,
reluctantly, to shake off the night in which he
has been steeped. Beyond, toward the East, is