One summer eve, with pensive thought,
I wandered on the sea-beat shore,
Where oft, in heedless infant sport,
I gathered shells in days before.
I gathered shells, &c.
The plashing waves, like music fell,
Responsive to my fancy wild,
A dream came o’er me like a spell,
I thought I was again a child.
A dream came o’er me like a spell,
A dream came o’er me like a spell,
I thought I was again a child.
I stooped upon the pebbly strand,
To cull the toys that ’round me lay,
But as I took them in my hand,
I threw them one by one away.
I threw them, &c.
“Oh, thus,” I said, “in every stage,
By toys our fancy is beguiled,
We gather shells from youth to age,
And then we leave them like a child.”
We gathere shells, &c.