Upon the sandy shore an empty shell, Beyond the shell infinity of sea; O Saviour, I am like that empty shell; Thou art the Sea to me. A sweeping wave rides up the shore, and, lo, Each dim recess the coiled shell within Is searched, is filled, is filled to overflow By water crystalline. Not to the shell is any glory then: All glory give we to the glorious sea. And not to me is any glory when Thou overflowest me. Sweep over me, Thy shell, as low I lie, I yield me to the purposes of Thy will; Sweep up, O conquering waves, and purify. And with Thy fulness fill.
But I have seen a fiery flame Take to his pure and burning heart Mere dust of earth, to it impart His virtue, till that dust became Transparent loveliness of flame. O Fire of God, Thou fervent Flame, Thy dust of earth in Thee would fall, And so be lost beyond recall, Transformed by Thee, its very name Forgotten in Thine own, O Flame.