Dora Sigerson Shorter (Дора Сигерсон Шортер)

The Scallop Shell

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

1. When You Are on the Sea
2. An Irish Blackbird
3. The Song of the Happy Man
4. The Enemies
5. What Will You Give?

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1708

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