Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 126.djvu/462

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THE FAIRY SHELL, ETC.


THE FAIRY SHELL.

One day, when wandering on the shore
That once was ruled by Marinell,
I found within a clefted rock
A strangely twisted, curious shell
With spiral whorls of pearly white,
And hollows tinged with roseate light.

This shell possessed a wondrous power,
For, placed against the listener's ear.
He heard, though gentle, faint, and low,
The tones of those he held most dear;
Though parted far by land or wave,
The faithful shell an echo gave.

"Oh, happy gift to man," said I;
"More precious than the painter's art;
How oft shalt thou, in distant climes,
Console the ever-faithful heart,
Bring back the cherished voice again,
And take from absence half its pain."

"Vain are thy thoughts," a nymph replied;
"For those who own it will lament
That never, through its echoes faint.
Can tidings from the loved be sent:
The distant sound is only caught,
But never word or message brought.

"'Twill only waken yearnings vain;
'Twill only pierce the heart anew,
And bring to mind with tenfold pain
The anguish of the last adieu.
When all is lost beyond recall,
'Tis better far a veil should fall."

She ceased. I turned, and threw the shell
Beneath the tossing, foaming tide;
Too well can memory waken grief,
That man should seek for aught beside.
Love needs it not; for love can last
When all the things of time are past.

Chambers' Journal.




MIGNONETTE.

Within the sense of touch and sight,
They lie before me as I write.
These subtle-scented flowers;
Their little tufts of golden green,
With flecks of ruddy brown between,
All wet with summer showers.

I saw them but an hour ago.
With sister bunches all a-row.
And rosebuds white and red;
And dark carnations, spicy sweet,
Borne westward thro' the busy street.
Upon a flower-girl's head.

The sudden summer shower drew forth
From my one simple pennyworth.
The half-evanished bloom;
The fading tufts grew green again,
And breathed, in answer to the rain,
A beautiful perfume.

How well their silent beauties grace
The dulness of this dingy place,
My lonely working-room!
I drop my pen this summer day.
And fancy bears me far away,
Where other posies bloom.

To garden borders thickly set
With pansy, lily, mignonette,
And all sweet flowers that blow;
Where we two in the sunshine sit,
While butterflies around us flit,
And brown bees come and go.

The lark sings high, in heaven above,
Its thrilling strain of happy love.
While we sit still below;
Each heart can feel the other beat.
But neither breaks the silence sweet,
With whispered "Yes" or "No."

Ah, me! since then what months of pain
Ah, me! what months of sun and rain
Must run, ere I can see
Another of those sunshine hours,
And hear among the summer flowers
How one remembers me.

But love is mine, how strong and true,
And hope springs green, dear flowers, as you.
I murmur not at fate;
While for the greatest good of all,
For years, though shine or shadow fall,
I am content to wait.

All The Year Round.




THE HAPPY MAN.

A PARAPHRASE.

Two sapphires are thy two blue eyes
So lovely and so sweet;
Thrice happy is the happy man
Whom lovingly they greet.

Thy heart, it is a diamond
That noble lightning throws;
Thrice happy is the happy man
For whom it throbs and glows.

And rubies are thy crimson lips,
None lovelier might one reach;
Thrice happy is the happy man
Who gets of them love-speech.

If I but knew the happy man.
And met that favoured one
Alone, alone in the green woods.
His happiness were done!

Tinsley's Magazine.