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 creation o’er its watery plains;
And on Time’s sands full many a shell remains
Tossed by...
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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,
Abruptly closed. I searched that palace round,
And for its mate still earth’s...