A Hauntingly lovely poem: The Shell

For some strange reason, the opening nine lines of this poem by James Stephens, The Shell, have stayed with me since my high school years. It certainly evokes a feeling.

James Stephens. 1882–

123. The Shell

AND then I pressed the shell
Close to my ear
And listened well,
And straightway like a bell
Came low and clear 5
The slow, sad murmur of the distant seas,
Whipped by an icy breeze
Upon a shore
Wind-swept and desolate.
It was a sunless strand that never bore 10
The footprint of a man,
Nor felt the weight
Since time began
Of any human quality or stir
Save what the dreary winds and waves incur. 15
And in the hush of waters was the sound
Of pebbles rolling round,
For ever rolling with a hollow sound.
And bubbling sea-weeds as the waters go
Swish to and fro 20
Their long, cold tentacles of slimy grey.
There was no day,
Nor ever came a night
Setting the stars alight
To wonder at the moon: 25
Was twilight only and the frightened croon,
Smitten to whimpers, of the dreary wind
And waves that journeyed blind—
And then I loosed my ear … O, it was sweet
To hear a cart go jolting down the street. 30