Columbus Democrat

[A distant correspondent selected the following
exquisite poetical effusion for the 'Democrat.' It is
from the pen of that gifted authoress, Mrs. Aspy.]

SONG OF THE SEA-SHELL.

I come from the ocean—a billow passed o'er me,
And covered with sea-weeds, and glittering foam,
I fell on the sands—and a stranger soon bore me
To deck the gay halls of his far-distant home;
Encompassed by exquisite myrtles and roses,
Still, still, in the deep I am pining to be,
And the low voice within me my feeling discloses,
And evermore murmurs the sounds of the sea.

The sky-lark at morn pours a carol of pleasure,
At eve, the sad nightingale warbles her note;
The harp in our halls nightly sounds a glad measure,
And beauty's sweet songs on the air lightly float;
Yet I sigh for the loud-breaking billows that tossed
(me,
I long to the cool coral caverns to flee,
And when guests with officious intrusion accost me,
I answer them still in the strains of the sea.

I have known them the ties they once cherish'd
forgetting,
Since I left the blue deep I am ever regretting,
O! is it so hard to preserve true devotion?
Oft trust to new friendship, and cling to new love.
And mingled with men in the regions above.
Let mortals who doubt seek a lesson of me,
I am bound by mysterious links to the ocean,
And no language is mine but the sounds of the sea.