218
Shells of the Ocean.
And the ship went down and the fair young bride,
That sailed from Dublin Bay.
SHELLS OF THE OCEAN.
by J. W. Lake.
One summer eve, with pensive thought,
I wander’d on the seabeat shore,
Where oft in heedless infant sport
I gather’d shells in days before.
The plashing waves like music fell
Responsive to my fancy wild ;
A dream came o’er me like a spell,
I thought I was again a child.
I stoop’d upon the pebbly strand
To cull the toys that round me lay.
But as I took them in my hand
I threw them one by one away.
Oh, thus, I said, in ev’ry stage
By toys our fancy is beguled,
We gather shells from youth to age,
And then we leave them like a child!
THE END.
