Alexandria Gazette

THE CORAL.—We know not a millionth part of the wonders of this beautiful world.—Leigh Hunt.

There's a living atom in the sea
That weaves a flinty shell,
For itself a lasting shroud to be,
And a home in which to dwell
In the briny waste of ocean waves
It builds its coral home,
And mocks at the beating surge that laves
Its dreary abode with foam.

There—there in deep cerulean gloom
Unnumbered myriad swarms
Are forming a coral home and tomb—
A shield to their insect forms
And the rocky sepulchres made fast,
The leagues thus covered o'er,
They uprear a mausoleum vast
On the ocean's sandy floor.

'Neath the shallow waves of the inland sea,
Where gentler waters flow—
As bright as flowers on the upland lea
The branches of coral grow;
And dredged from their watery element,
And wrought with skillful care,
To beauty's bower their hues are sent,
To deck the forms of the fair,

But coral rocks of the tropic clime,
Built up 'mid the ocean wave,
And formed of the ocean's briny slime,
For the coral's home and grave;
How mean would the grandest works compare,
That pride of man can form,
With the mighty power in progress there,
The skill of the insect worm.

'Tis a wondrous work to mortal eyes,
And ocean's waves can tell,
Of spreading climes that yet will arise
From the coral's rocky shell:
On the shores the winds and waves will fling
The wealth of other lands.
And in time to come their harvesting
Will be reaped by mortal hands.