22 FLORIDA DAYS.

the unbroken stretch of sea; and then, Europe
and Africa in the flood of day. Here, lumi-
nous darkness, and expectation. It lies so low,
this narrow heap of sand and shells, that from
a distance it seems but a higher ridge of the
gray water, except where the column of the light-
house rises like a cloudy pillar touched with
fire, and where a line of glistening white shows
that waves break along the level shore.
 The island, set like a jewel in the murmuring
and waiting sea, is touched -by the first gleam of
light; and the waves, lapping and folding upon
its shores, lift themselves up out of silence,
with the rising exhilaration of the dawn. The'
tower of the light-house catches the earliest
hint of day; and the lamps, which have burned
with steady, cheerful blaze all night, grow pale,
and melt and flicker; one hardly notices when
they go out altogether in the growing bright-
ness, which holds a promise of violet and rose.
The shadows separate, and stretch themselves,
and loosen their grasp upon the low-growing
palmettos and Spanish bayonets, so that each
wet, shining leaf has a strange distinctness in