A bivalve feeding in the warm salt sea
Draws inward, with the wave, a sandy grain,
Which, not returning with the wave again,
Remains henceforth its secret grief to be.
Day after day, so sea-wise folk agree,
The creature hides it in a dew-like rain
Of ceaseless tears, till, harden'd out of pain,
A precious pearl is fashion'd perfectly. From outer seas of passion, seas of strife,
There drifts at times upon the human heart
A secret rankling grief that day by day
We cover with the bitter tears of life,
Till, wrought of pain from out our nobler part,
The pearl of Peace remains with us alway.