DARLING shell, where hast thou been, West or East? or heard or seen? From what pastimes art thou come? Can we make amends at home? Whether thou hast tuned the dance To the maids of ocean Know I not; but Ignorance Never hurts Devotion. This I know, Ianthe's shell, I must ever love thee well, Though too little to resound While the Nereids dance around; For, of all the shells that are, Thou art sure the brightest; Thou, Ianthe's infant care, Most these eyes delightest. To thy early aid she owes Teeth like budding snowdrop rows: And what other shell can say On her bosom once it lay? That which into Cyprus bore Venus from her native sea, (Pride of shells!) was never more Dear to her than thou to me. |