Already Triton at his call appears 



Above the waves, a Tyrian robe he wears ; 



And in his hand a crooked trumpet bears. 



The sovereign bids him peaceful sounds inspire, 



And give the waves the signal to retire ; 



His writhen shell he takes, whose narrow vent, 



Grows by degrees into a large extent. 



DRYDEN. 



I have seen 



A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract 

 Of inland ground, applying to his ear, 

 The convolutions of a smooth-lipp'd shell ; 

 To which, in silence hush'd, his very soul 

 Listen' d intensely, and his countenance soon 

 Brighten'd with joy : for murmurings from within 

 Were heard, sonorous cadences, whereby, 

 To his belief, the monitor express' d 

 Mysterious union with its native sea. 



WORDSWORTH. 



