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THE SEA-SHELL.
In whose unceasing flow is wrought
An emblem of eternity.

I gather'd from the pebbled shore
A shell, with rainbow beauties tinged;
And home my ocean-prize I bore
With many-colour'd sea-weed fringed.

As to my listening ear I held
The shining gem the billows gave,
Within its fairy cavern swell'd
The mimic murmur of the wave.

Though distant far my footsteps stray'd
Through shady grove or sunny plain,
Still, still its fairy cadence made
An echo of the roaring main.

'Tis thus the aged seaman dreams,
When anchor'd in his tranquil home;
In wand'ring fancy still he seems
Through dark and stormy seas to roam.

He slumbers in a land of peace;
He hears no more the waters' strife;
But faithful memory still will trace
The dangers of his early life.

Rosa.