_The Waters._

The world below the brine. Forests at the bottom of the sea--the branches and leaves, Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds--the thick tangle, the openings, and the pink turf, Different colours, pale grey and green, purple, white, and gold--the play of light through the water, Dumb swimmers there among the rocks--coral, gluten, grass, rushes--and the aliment of the swimmers, Sluggish existences grazing there, suspended, or slowly crawling close to the bottom: The sperm-whale at the surface, blowing air and spray, or disporting with his flukes, The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy sea-leopard, and the sting-ray. Passions there, wars, pursuits, tribes--sight in those ocean-depths-- breathing that thick breathing air, as so many do. The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle air breathed by beings like us, who walk this sphere: The change onward from ours to that of beings who walk other spheres.