Beauty is not a pebble on the shore -- A worthless stone upon the rippled sand, To be picked up by any casual hand: It is a shell from some deep ocean floor; A rare-found seashell magical and strange. Within its heart the far melodic roar Of ocean diapason evermore Resounds to ears attuned to its full range. They hark in vain who never -- haven-bound -- Have dared the sea when night-dark waves crashed high, And glimpsed the pole star fixed in threatening sky. To them the lifted shell gives back no sound. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE GREATER TESTAMENT (XXII, XXIII, AND XXVI) by FRANCOIS VILLON WE WEAR THE MASK by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A SOLILOQUY; OCCASIONED BY THE CHIRPING OF A GRASSHOPPER by WALTER HARTE IDYLLS OF THE KING: GARETH AND LYNETTE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE LAMENTATION OF THE OLD PENSIONER (1) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |