12 
As now’ mid the calm it was borne to its rest 
Ere the evening tide murmurs had come. — 
I too, by the burthen and day — heart opprest, 
Would welcome the rest of the tomb. 
And far from the land where in childhood 1 stray’d, 
Where the friends of my youth for me weep, 
On the shores ofthe stranger my grave will be made 
And there gentle ones watch o’er my sleep. 
Meek emblem again! see, P’ve raised from the sand, 
No sea-storm to feel or to fear; — 
Thy spirit unfetter’d has soared to a land 
Where thy joy is undimm’d by a tear. 
What is life? — 't is a delicate shell 
Thrown up by etemity’s flow, 
On time’s bank of quiek sand to dwell 
And a moment its loveliness show. 
Gone back to it's element grand 
To the billow that brought it on shore, 
See, another is washing the land 
And the beautiful shell is no more! 
- es- — 
