26 CONCHOLOGY. 



L. 



Thou Stromhus! hast no fine an*ay, 

 No physiognomical display, 



To seize upon the soul ; 

 Sensations rise at sight of thee, 

 Far other than the ecstacy, 

 That beauty's winning sovereignty. 

 Inspires from pok to pole. 



LI. 



It cannot be that dire alarms, 

 Need those aculeated aims 



To guard from hostile foe ; 

 Nor can anticipated ill, 

 Murex with sad forebodings fill. 

 Nor knows he that the Sovereign will 



Enough of real woe. — 



