of the big shore places were closed now; and there were hardly
any lights except the shadowy moving glow of the ferry boat across
the sound. And as the moon rose higher, the inessential houses
began to melt away -until gradually, I became aware of the old
island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors eyes once. The
fresh green breast of the new world.
It's vanished trees had once pandered in whispers to the last
and greatest of all human dreams. For a transitory enchanted moment-
man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent.
Face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate
through his capacity for wonderment."
F. Scott Fitzgerald
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