If, rising on its wrecks, at last
To something nobler we attain.
—Longfellow.
THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS.[35]
This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main,—
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,