This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign
Sails the unshadowed main, --
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings
And coral reefs lie bare
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair
Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
And every chambered cell
Where its dim dreaming life was won't to dwell
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell
Before thee lies revealed, --
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!
Year after year beheld the silent toil
That spread his lustrous coil;
Still, as the spiral grew
He left the past year's dwelling for the new
Stole with soft step its shining archway through
Built up its idle door
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more
Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee
Child of the wandering sea
Cast from her lap, forlorn!
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathèd horn!
While on mine ear it rings
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings: --
Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast
Till thou at length art free
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!