THE "SAILING" OF THE NAUTILUS. 285 



Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, 



Child of the wandering sea, 



Cast from her lap forlorn ! 

 From the dead lips a clearer note is born 

 Than ever Triton blew from wreathed 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.'" 



