Beauty is not a pebble on the shore -- A worthless stone upon the rippled sand, To be picked up by any casual hand: It is a shell from some deep ocean floor; A rare-found seashell magical and strange. Within its heart the far melodic roar Of ocean diapason evermore Resounds to ears attuned to its full range. They hark in vain who never -- haven-bound -- Have dared the sea when night-dark waves crashed high, And glimpsed the pole star fixed in threatening sky. To them the lifted shell gives back no sound. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 40 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN TO WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER DAFFODILS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ASOLANDO: BAD DREAMS by ROBERT BROWNING THE SILENCE OF UNLABOURED FIELDS by JOSEPH CAMPBELL DOVECOTT MILL: 13. THE FATHER by PHOEBE CARY BLANK MISGIVINGS OF A CREATURE MOVING ABOUT IN WORLDS NOT REALIZED: 7 by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |