| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 1367. The Tutelage |
| | | By Robert Mowry Bell |
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| IN the coiled shell sounds Ocean’s distant roar, | |
| Oft to our listening hearts come heavenly strains;— | |
| Men say, “That was the blood in our own veins, | |
| And this,—but the echo of our hope; no more.” | |
| And yet, the murmuring sea exists, which bore | 5 |
| That frail creation o’er its watery plains; | |
| And on Time’s sands full many a shell remains | |
| Tossed by Eternity upon its shore. | |
| Its tongue our hope from Nature’s self has caught. | |
| Matter nor force is lost as æons roll. | 10 |
| And mind?—Love life conserves and death abates,— | |
| Through the long ages this has nature taught. | |
| Under the stars she plights the wistful soul: | |
| “Life ruled by Love nor dies nor dissipates.” | |
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