WOOD LILIES. 



O lilies, upturned lilies, 



How swift their prisoned rays 

 To smite with fire from Heaven 



The fainting August days ! 

 Tall urns of blinding beauty, 



As vestals pure they hold, 

 In each a blaze of scarlet 



Half blotted out with gold ! 



Thro trellised roadway edges, 

 And open woodland range, 



By ruined walls and hedges, 

 In every phase of change, 



They lift in holy vigils 



The year s unquenched desire, 



And break the moveless verdure 

 With shifting lines of fire ! 



