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We seem to hear voices from spirit-land; but as when we hold a sea-shell to our ear and seem to hear the ocean it is only the blood in our own veins, so to continue Eugene Lee-Hamilton's fine sonnet Lo! in my heart I hear, as in a shell, The murmur of a world beyond the grave, Distinct, distinct, though faint and far it be.
Read next another strictly Petrarchan sonnet, where the thought divisions of quatrains and tercets are marked with exceptional clearness, Eugene Lee-Hamilton's disillusioned "Sea-Shell Murmurs": "The hollow sea-shell that for years hath stood On dusty shelves, when held against the ear Proclaims its stormy parent; and we hear The faint far murmur of the breaking flood. "We hear the sea. The sea?
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