Summary

Unknown A Run Ashore at Queenstown.

Their color and the frequent green which surrounds them give them a tropical resemblance, especially, as is not often the case, when the sun lights them up and distills all sorts of rainbow tints from the atmosphere, which is usually soft, but gray and dispiriting. On a clear and placid summer day Queenstown Harbor is as beautiful as anything that can be imagined. The foliage has a soft and cloudy depth, and the water is a still pool of emerald. Every object is refined and idealized, every color harmonized.
Source: Wikisource

Unknown A Run Ashore at Queenstown.

Then, until Queenstown is reached, there is more animation than at any other time during the voyage. Flags are flying from each mast and astern; the decks are holy-stoned to a creamy whiteness; the officers wear their best uniforms, with the newest of gold-lace, and the passengers have discarded the loose and négligé costumes of the voyage for the more precise and elegant attire of the shore. The transformations in dress are so complete that one's most intimate acquaintances are not immediately recognizable.
Source: Wikisource

Unknown A Run Ashore at Queenstown.

The cliffs are lofty and savage, and in contrast with their brown escarpment the sea fringes their bases with a long line of white surf, which is high enough to be visible many miles away when the Atlantic is calmest, and which, when a gale is blowing, is uplifted half-way to their tops. The land above the cliffs is drowsy and vacant, a moist green in color, sad in its effect, with few other signs of life upon it than the dots of white where a small village lies under the pale blue streak of its own smoke, and the tower and inclosing walls of a light-house.
Source: Wikisource

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