The Chambered Nautilus This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the uncharted sea of dreams, And, when the world was made, had been ordained To bear man’s hopes and brilliant schemes. Down its bright halls a lonely guild, Whose ancient masters learned too well To shun the alien seas they thrilled, In drowsy contemplation dwell.

As molten at the wondrous forge, The light is made to shew, The mariner of mind need not indulge When he with one small heart can go.

Thus in its soul a concealed strife Gathering against the savage gale, This ship of pearl, the gem of life, Is man’s true vessel—hope’s frail sail.

Let not the tempest bend thy quest, Haste on, oh wavering sail, I quibble, So shall there rise from all the rest, A mighty symphony of jubilee.

To let the hand of fate take sail, And on the day break forth, so wise, To put forth into the adventure pale, And fill thy soul’s immortal skies.

Once more the tides now carry thee Fulfilling what thou lovest best: To seek thy kindred in the sea, With infinite treasures for thy quest.

• Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr