Song of the Sea-Shell

Beach Bubbles

Child

Tell me, sea-shell, white and pearly,
What is it you ever say
In your voice so low and pleasant,
Sounding as if far away.
Are they songs you sing so sweetly,
Taught by mermaids long ago,
Or the echoes, faintly whispered,
Of the ocean's ceaseless flow?

Sea-Shell

Lying scattered on the sea-shore,
Washed by billows rolling there,
Many strange and pleasant stories
In our memories we bear.
Winds and waters rage around us,
And our hollow cells retain
Every echo, but repeated
In a softer, sweeter strain.
Thus unconsciously we murmur
In our voices small and low,
The grand music sounding near us
In the ocean's ebb and flow.
Songs of mermaids we can sing you,
Tales of winds and waters tell,
And melodies of spirits whisper,
For we love their music well.
Listen to this simple story,
Eager, wondering little child;
Yonder small waves sing it often
To the sea-shore lone and wild.
Far away 'mong lonely mountains
Dwelt a sparkling little rill;
Lovely flowers bloomed beside it
In the forest cool and still.
Gaily sang the wild birds near it
Through the pleasant summer hours,
And the little brook was happy
'Mong its friends the birds and flowers.
Till one breezy, sunny morning,
An idle fairy told the rill
How pleasant 'twas to wander freely
O'er the broad green earth at will.
Told it of soft verdant meadows
Bright with streams that rippled by,
Where fairest flowers forever bloomed
Beneath a cloudless sky.
Told it of the broad blue ocean
Where the sunbeams loved to lie,
Where the free fresh winds were blowing,
And great waves went rolling by.
Told it of the strange bright spirits
Dwelling in that far-off sea,
Floating through their coral bowers,
Singing ever joyfully.
Thus the foolish idle fairy
Told of things so fresh and fair,
That the little streamlet longed
To leave its home and hasten there.
So it left the quiet mountain
Where it once was glad to dwell,
Heeding not the weeping flowers
Nor the birds that sang farewell.
Thinking of the fairy's story
And the sights it soon should see,
Down the hillside went the streamlet
Rippling on by rock and tree.
On it passed, through valleys lonely
And through forests dark and wild,
Still it saw no pleasant meadows
Where the sunlight ever smiled.
So it wandered sadly onward,
Seeking for a fairer home,
Till it met a mountain torrent
In its robe of snow-white foam;
And the waves, as on they hurried,
Told the rill that they were going
Where the earth was bright and pleasant,
And their friends were gaily flowing.
" Join us, join us, ere we vanish,
Thou shalt share the home we seek.
Come with us, and we'll befriend thee,
For thou art alone and weak.
See us! how we freely wander
Down the rocks and far away;
Come and journey onward with us,
Little brook, oh come away! "
Thus the wild waves urged the streamlet,
As they rippled side by side.
But the flowers that bent above it
With soft warning voices cried,
" Go not with the mountain torrent,
Do not listen to its call,
Stay with us among the valleys
Lest some evil should befall.
We will cheer thy lonely hours
With our music soft and low,
While beneath our drooping flowers
Placidly thy waves may flow,
Listen to our friendly warning,
Be not idly led astray;
When too late thou wilt repent it;
Little streamlet, stay, oh stay! "
But the brook still listened only
To the wild waves' joyous call,
And it plunged amid the tumult
Of the dashing waterfall.
Then away through glen and valley
Swept the torrent and the rill,
Never more to ripple calmly
Through those valleys green and still.
On they rolled, down rock and hillside,
Till before them rose a wall.
" Ah, they think to take us captive, "
Cried the angry waterfall,
" But to tame a free-born torrent
Vain will all their efforts be.
Fear not, little streamlet, follow
And boldly leap the wall with me. "
Fast and high the waters gathered,
And then, with a sullen sound,
Down they dashed — but on a mill-wheel
Turning ever slowly round.
Here, in darkness and in terror,
Tossed and tortured ceaselessly,
Long the captive waters struggled,
Vainly striving to be free.
Till at length from their dark prison
'Neath the pleasant light of day,
Now no longer pure and stainless,
Fast the dark waves fled away.
But they danced and foamed no longer,
Singing gaily their wild song,
Now they murmured of their sorrow,
As they sadly flowed along.
And the discontented streamlet
Grieved that it had ever come,
Longed now vainly for the quiet
Of its happy mountain home.
Many a shadow dimmed its brightness,
Many a dark stain on it fell,
And it thought now of the flowers,
Of their warning and farewell.
Meanwhile onward flowed the streamlet
Through the pathways dark as night,
Till 'mid a group of graceful trees
It gushed forth into the light.
And the wild stream, now a fountain,
In a carved urn came to dwell,
Making soft a pleasant music
As the cool waves rose and fell.
Little children played around it,
Listening to its gentle song,
Bright birds came to drink its waters,
Flowers gazed in it all day long.
But the waves still murmured sadly,
" Give us back our liberty,
We are journeying from the mountains
To the far-off summer sea.
Set us free, and let us wander
O'er the pleasant earth at will,
We can find no joy in dwelling
In this garden lone and still. "
But their prayer was all unheeded,
For their voices low and clear,
Whispering softly, was the music
That the children loved to hear.
Vainly strove the birds to cheer it,
Vainly smiled the flowers around,
Still the plashing fountain murmured
With a softly mournful sound;
So it dwelt a lonely captive,
Till the carved urn crumbling fell.
Then it glided from the garden
Happier than words could tell.
And ere long 'mong verdant mountains
Where the cool winds rustled by,
And lovely flowers blooming dwelt
Beneath a cloudless sky,
Came the broad stream rippling softly,
As it swiftly flowed along
By drooping trees who bowed to hear
The blue waves' cheerful song.
Then the little streamlet whispered,
" I am happy, I am free.
Here I find all I have sought for,
Here my quiet home shall be,
Here I can forget my wanderings
And the troubles that befell.
I shall journey on no further,
Mountain torrent, fare thee well! "
But the great waves loudly answered,
" This is not the home we seek,
Thou must follow where we lead thee,
We are strong, and thou art weak.
Far off to the boundless ocean
We are swiftly bearing thee;
Thou hast joined us, and no power
Now can ever set thee free. "
Wildly pled the poor lost streamlet
As the dark waves round it rolled,
" But for you I should have heeded
What the gentle flowers told.
I have suffered for my folly,
Bitterly do I repent;
Now my lost home seems most lovely,
For I've learned to be content.
Once you promised to befriend me,
Then bear me not so fast away
To the cold, dark, stormy ocean;
Cruel stream, oh let me stay! "
But the torrent would not listen;
Fast the blue waves rolled along,
Heedless of the flowers' beauty,
Or the wild birds' happy song.
On through meadow, field and valley,
Flowed the broad stream steadily,
Till it joined a noble river
Rolling calmly to the sea.
Then through cities vast and noisy,
And through deserts wild and lone,
While upon its peaceful bosom
Stately ships went sailing on,
Leaving far behind the mountains,
On it swept through plain and glade,
Bearing still the helpless streamlet,
Sad, repentant, and dismayed,
Till at length into the ocean,
Welcomed by its solemn roar,
Mountain stream and noble river
Joyfully their blue waves pour.
With one farewell look of sorrow
On the earth so green and fair,
Rolled the brook into the ocean
Mingling with the billows there.
Wildly sang the strong, fresh breezes,
As they flitted to and fro,
While the mermaids' strange soft voices
Sounded faintly far below.
But though dwelling in the wild sea,
'Mid its tumult, spray and foam,
Still the streamlet murmured sadly
Tender songs of its lost home,
Ever singing softly, lowly,
As its blue waves kissed the shore,
Till the sea-shells caught its music
Echoing it forever more.
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