THE hollow sea-shell, which for years hath stood On dusty shelves, when held against the ear Proclaims its stormy parents; and we hear The faint far murmur of the breaking flood. We hear the sea. The sea? It is the blood In our own veins, impetuous and near, And pulses keeping pace with hope and fear And with our feelings' every shifting mood. Lo, in my heart I hear, as in a shell, The murmur of a world beyond the grave, Distinct, distinct, though faint and far it be. Thou fool; this echo is a cheat as well, -- The hum of earthly instincts; and we crave A world unreal as the shell-heard sea. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: THE FOX; FOR ANN PEARN by EDITH SITWELL TO MR. S.T. COLERIDGE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD POOR POLL by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES SONNETS ATTEMPTED IN THE MANNER OF CONTEMPORARY WRITERS: 3 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE COLORED SOLDIERS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A TIME TO TALK by ROBERT FROST A FRIEND'S SONG FOR SIMOISIUS by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY THE CHINESE NIGHTINGALE; A SONG IN CHINESE TAPESTRIES by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY |