And greet them by the way.

Then, oft, some curious stone, or shell,
The laughing girls and boys
Would find, upon their aprons fell,
To put among their toys.

"These pearly shells," said he, "I found
Where gloomy waters roar:
These polished stones, so smooth and round,
Rough surges washed ashore.

"Though small to us a pebble seems,
'Tis made and marked by One,
Who gave the warmth, and lit the beams
Of yon great shining sun.

"And when these pretty shells I find,
Along the ocean strand,
Their beauteous finish brings to mind
Their Maker's perfect hand.

"When on the wildest shore I'm thrown
And far from human eye,
I think of him who made the stone,
And shell, and sea, and sky.

"For he's my Friend and I am his!
Though strong and cold the blast,
My safest guide I know he is