From the Hills of Dream | ||
145
The Sea Shell.
In the heart of the shellIn the heart of the shell a wild-rose flush lies shut from wind or wave; lies close, and dreams to the unceasing lullaby that the sea-shell sings.
O would that I were that wild-rose flush, shut close from wind or wave: O would that I were that wild-rose flush to dream for ever to the unceasing song my sea-shell sings.
From the Hills of Dream | ||