CONCHOLOGY. 15 



XXVIII. 



Returning from the smooth broad strand, 

 The ebbing tide forsakes the land, 



And leaves without regret 

 To fade, or die, its stores marine. 

 Scattering bright Area's sparkling sheen, 

 That, seized by fairest hands I ween, 



Adorns the cabinet. 



XXIX. 



With scaUop in their hat before. 



And cross, and scrip, and scanty store, 



And eiTors all forgiv'n. 

 For penance done, tlie Pilgrim band, 

 Of old return'd from Holy Land, 

 With conscience heal'd and spirits bland. 



And hope to rest in Heaven — 



