<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117257" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Shells</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where the long waves put cool, caressing hands<br> Upon the fevered temples of the shore,<br> And with their eager lips are telling o’er<br>Their strange, unspoken secrets to the sands,<br>Along the shining rim of cape and cove<br> The shells in fair, unplanned mosaic lie;<br> And there the children, keen of heart and eye,<br>Gather their harvest in of treasure-trove.<br>Yet this is one of ocean’s mysteries—<br> That, while the humbler shells the breakers brave,<br> The fairest are most fragile, and the wave,<br>Ruthless, has crushed and mutilated these!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah, sea of life, we, too, like children, stand<br> Through youth and age, expectant, at thy rim,<br> To pray for golden argosies from Him<br>Who holds thee in the hollow of His hand.<br>Capricious tides delude us, veer and turn,<br> And flash our dreams to view, again to hide;<br> A moment on the breaker’s crest they ride,<br>The while we watch, their destiny to learn.<br>Poor, fragile dreams! Our humbler hopes befall;<br> But crushed and shattered, tempest-tossed and torn,<br> These come to shore, the dreams of youthful morn—<br>Most fair, most frail, and best beloved of all!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Guy+Wetmore+Carryl">Guy Wetmore Carryl</a> from <i>The Garden of Years and Other Poems</i><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=117257" data-title="Shells de Guy Wetmore Carryl" data-description="Where the long waves put cool, caressing hands/ Upon the fevered temples of the shore,/ And with their eager lips are telling o’er/Their strange, unspoken secrets to the sands,/Along the shining rim of cape and cove/ The shells in fair, unplanne..."></div> </div> </div>

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