Robert Mowry Bell

  • The Second Volume

    In the groined alcoves of an ancient tower
    Amid a wealth of treasured tomes I found
    A little book, in choicest vellum bound:
    Therein a romance of such magic power
    It held me rapt through many a trancëd hour;
    And then, the threads of interest all unwound,...

  • The Tutelage

    In the coiled shell sounds Ocean’s distant roar,
    Oft to our listening hearts come heavenly strains;—
    Men say, “That was the blood in our own veins,
    And this,—but the echo of our hope; no more.”
    And yet, the murmuring sea exists, which bore
    That frail...