It can scarcely be necessary to name as the two companions whom I
     reckoned with myself in this poetical picnic, Fields the lettered
     magnate, and Taylor the free cosmopolite. The long line of sandy
     beach which defines almost the whole of the New Hampshire sea-coast
     is especially marked near its southern extremity, by the
     salt-meadows of Hampton. The Hampton River winds through these
     meadows, and the reader may, if he choose, imagine my tent pitched
     near its mouth, where also was the scene of the Wreck of
     Rivermouth. The green bluff to the northward is Great Boar's Head;
     southward is the Merrimac, with Newburyport lifting its steeples
     above brown roofs and green trees on banks.