Upon a mountain height, far from the sea, <br /> I found a shell, <br />And to my listening ear the lonely thing <br />Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing, <br /> Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell. <br /> <br />How came the shell upon that mountain height? <br /> Ah, who can say <br />Whether there dropped by some too careless hand, <br />Or whether there cast when Ocean swept the Land, <br /> Ere the Eternal had ordained the Day? <br /> <br />Strange, was it not? Far from its native deep, <br /> One song it sang,-- <br />Sang of the awful mysteries of the tide, <br />Sang of the misty sea, profound and wide,-- <br /> Ever with echoes of the ocean rang. <br /> <br />And as the shell upon the mountain height <br /> Sings of the sea, <br />So do I ever, leagues and leagues away,-- <br />So do I ever, wandering where I may,-- <br /> Sing, O my home! sing, O my home! of thee. <br /> <br />1883.<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wanderer-6/
