The Sea-Shell

They tell us that the Ocean's birth
Is anthemed in your hidden strings,
That every choral song of Earth
Still to you sculptured gateway clings;
That from your sweet-tongued numbers rise
The herald notes of distant stars,
Awaking slumber-laden skies
Across the morning's opening bars;
That centuried thunders darkly dwell
Somewhere within your curled retreat,
Lulled by the movement of the swell
That steals to shore on tranquil feet.

(lines 13-24)

E.J. Pratt
The Poets of the Future: a College Anthology for 1916-1917 (Boston, Stratford Co., p. 279-281)
(Printed on the inside of the card "Pearl" (Edition 2-10) aquatint, Claire Pratt, 1954)