Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/144

 And the waves toss high their plumy spray, As they dance triumphant around their prey.

And yet, little shell, I find thee here, And nothing hath wrought thee harm or fear; Though shattered rocks, and a rock-strewn shore, Give tokens dire of the ocean's power. Tell me, tiny, beautiful thing! Filmy and frail as the butterfly's wing— An infant's finger could crush thee to dust— What hast thou then wherein to trust? And whence thy courage and power to brave The surging might of the wild sea wave? "I have not braved the ocean's might; I reared no front with the waves to fight. I yielded me meek to the billow's force, As it swept me along in its onward course. My weakness was strength in the tempest's hour, And my safety I found in the ocean's power." Rev. H. H. Dugmore.