The Scallop Shell

A scallop shell, loosed by the lifting tide,

Had left a friendly shore, the seas to brave;

Its lips of pink and snowy hollow shone

Pure in the sun, a pearl upon the wave.

It gleamed and passed—you burdened it with love,

With sweet long futures, new and dreamy days:

And named for me—because I held your hopes.

I bid you hush—not meriting your praise.

I pointed, where your vessel came to shore,

Wrecked where the tiny breakers rose and fell;

And bid your voyagers not put to sea

So fail a craft as this poor scallop shell.