WATER LILY. 153 



Of cherisli'd homes and infant race, 

 And all that charms their natal place. 

 But who, in truth, may guess or tell 

 What thoughts those tiny bosoms swell 1 

 Oh ! I could sit beside the brink 

 Of that bright lake, and soothly think 

 Of Him who made the mountain high, 

 Yet bends on earth a watchful eye ; 

 Who bade the flower of peerless white 

 Uplift her petals to the light. 

 That stand like burnish'd pillars round 

 To guard from harm her fairy ground, 

 Where summer creatures love to dwell. 

 And sip from out the brimming well ; * 

 The well, though full and brimming ever. 

 Yet leaping o'er its margin — never. 

 Fair flower ! thou art not made in vain ! 

 Nor yet to grace that watery plain ; 

 Nor yet, that living things may dwell 

 Within thy bounds, beside thy well. 



* Nectary, or honey cup, in which many flowers 

 secrete a sweet juice. 



