Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/243



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, as your vessel came to shore, Wrecked where the tiny breakers rose and fell; And bid your voyagers not put to sea So frail a craft as this poor scallop shell.