Hubert Church

(13 June 1857 – 8 April 1932 / Hobart, Tasmania)

To a Sea Shell


Friend of my chamber--O thou spiral shell
That murmurest of the ever-murmuring sea!
Repeating with eternal constancy
Whatever memories the wave can tell;
Whatever harmonies may rise and swell,
Whatever sadness in the deep may be--
They are the ocean's, and desired of thee;
Thou treasurest what thou dost love so well.
So all my heart is one voluted fold,
Shielding one face, and evermore it seems
Upon the threshold of the prying day,
Hid in the tangle of reluctant dreams;
And in the noontide, and the evening grey,
Its light illumines secrecies untold

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

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  • Rookie - 369 Points Stephen W (7/14/2014 10:41:00 AM)

    Interesting and very strange, he hints at his concerns. Not sure what the last 6 lines have to do with seashells. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 29 Points Colleen Courtney (7/14/2014 1:10:00 AM)

    To find a seashell that is perfectly whole and intact with no cracks or broken off chips is like finding buried treasure! I love seashells! I love this poem! (Report) Reply

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