ART gave it us as Nature doth a shell: It holds the murmurings of the infinite deep Of mind and thought; through its small arches creep The voices born about the sacred well; Here love and life their secret visions tell; And souls of old forgotten things that sweep In music low along the shores of sleep, Do haunt its chambers with some potent spell. Whate'er the seas have whispered to the lands A shell repeats; this sings the heart's own lay. But when I raised it dripping from the sands To bear it to my cabinet, woe the day! The tiny treasure brake within my hands, And all the music fled from it away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUTH AND ART by ROBERT BROWNING HARVEST SONG by LUDWIG HENRICH CHRISTOPH HOLTY HAVE YOU PLANTED A TREE? by HENRY ABBEY SONNET TO NICHOLAS BLACKLEECH OF GRAYES INNE by RICHARD BARNFIELD CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 6. OF PATIENCE by WILLIAM BASSE BLIND FOLK by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |