The Shell

"...It seems in truth the fairest shell of ocean." —Shelley

I.
What is it makes thy sound unto my ear
So mournful, Angel of the mighty Sea?
Is it the soul of her who once was here,
Speaking affection, through thy lips, to me?

II.
Oh! from my childhood this has been to me
A mystery which no one could solve!—It sounds
And sorrows for the Sea incessantly—
Telling the grief with which my soul abounds!

III.
Here, in its labyrinthine curve, it leaves
The foot-prints of its song in many dyes;
And here, incessantly, it ever weaves
The rainbow-tissue of its melodies.

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poem by Thomas Holley Chivers from Eonchs of Ruby (1851)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To Mary in Heaven

I.
I met thee first in May, Mary!
The flower-crowned month of May;
But now thou art away, Mary!
Away from me—away!
Thou wert that all to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.

II.
Ah! then thine eyes were mild, Mary!
Thy deep blue eyes were mild;
For thou wert then a child, Mary!
And I another child.
Thou wert that all to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.

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poem by Thomas Holley Chivers from Eonchs of Ruby (1851)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!