In what cold seas, under what winters' reign, <br />- Who can e'er know, O nacreous, fragile Shell! - <br />Hast thou through current, wave and tidal swell, <br />In shallows and abysses restless lain? <br /> <br />Today thou hast, far from the ebbing main, <br />Soft bed in golden sand, 'neath sky to dwell. <br />Vain hope: full long and sad, within thy cell <br />Still ever sounds great ocean's mournful strain. <br /> <br />My soul sonorous prison-chamber lies, <br />And like thyself forever weeps and sighs <br />Refrain of ancient clamor to be free; <br /> <br />So from the heart-depths all too full of Her, <br />Deaf, slow, insensible, yet deathless e'er, <br />The stormy, distant murmur moans in me.<br /><br />Jose Maria de Heredia<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-shell-11/
