I gathered shells upon the sand, br Each shell a little perfect thing, br So frail, yet potent to withstand br The mountain-waves' wild buffeting. br Through storms no ship could dare to brave br The little shells float lightly, save br All that they might have lost of fine br Shape and soft colour crystalline. br br Yet I amid the world's wild surge br Doubt if my soul can face the strife, br The waves of circumstance that urge br That slight ship on the rocks of life. br O soul, be brave, for He who saves br The frail shell in the giant waves, br Will bring thy puny bark to land br Safe in the hollow of His hand.