THE SHELL AND THE WORLD.

The world was like a shell to me,—

Its voice with distant song was low;

But now its mysteries I know:

I hear the turmoil of the sea.

The whirling, soft, and tender sound

That meant I knew not what of lore,—

I dream its mystery now no more:

Its reckless meaning I have found.

O shell! I held thee to my ears

When I was young, and smiled with pride

To stand aglow at marvel's side!

O world, thy voice is wild with tears!