LILIES. 57 



Oh! can it be that here below, 



All o'er the verdant plain, 

 This fair and beauteous flower should grow 



And bud, and bloom, in vain? 

 It looks so sweet, and pure, and good, 



Within its robes of white, 

 It makes me wish that if I could, 



I too might look so bright." 



" Oh ! then, my child, if thou wouldst be," 



The mother soft replied, 

 "Like that fair flower from spot so free, 



Or taint of earthly pride, 

 Lift up thy heart to God above, 



Who reigns supreme on high ; 

 And ask, that in His matchless love 



He'd deign to hear thy cry; 

 And from thy soul to wash away 



Each foul and guilty stain, 

 And on thy spirit shed a ray 



Of life and peace again. 

 Ask that thus washed thy robes may be. 



Pure as the lilies fair; 

 That thou, from sin forever free, 



Christ's spotless robe may wear. 

 And let thy youthful heart be riven 



From this vile world away; 

 And all thy hopes be fixed on heaven, 



The realms of endless day; 

 For there, within His fold of rest, 



Amid unfading light, 

 The ransomed soul, forever blest, 



Shall walk with Him in white.' 



