A Tramp's Sketches

blither, happier, stronger. Then in my heart birds begin to sing in chorus. I am myself once more. A fire, a kettle, and while the kettle boils, into the sea, giving my limbs to the sparkling, buoyant water. Then am I super-self, if such an expression may be permitted. So passes the vagabond's night. Thus somehow one comes into new harmony with Nature, and the personal rhythm enters into connection