JLlLY-J^UI^ITY. 
<1 LOWERS ! when the Saviour’s calm benignant 
eye 
Fell on your gentle beauty—when from you 
That heavenly lesson for all hearts He drew 
Eternal, universal, as the sky— 
Then, in the bosom of your purity, 
A voice He set, as in a temple-shrine, 
I That life’s quick travellers ne’er might pass you by, 
Unwarn’d by that sweet oracle divine. 
And though, too oft, its low celestial sound, 
By the harsh notes of work-day Care is drown’d, 
And the loud steps of'vain unlistening Haste, 
Yet the great ocean hath no tone of power 
M ightier to reach the soul, in thought’s hush’d hour, 
Than yours, ye lilies ! chosen thus, and graced ! 
Hemans. 
Nay ! but thou a spirit art; 
Men shall take thee in the mart 
For the ghost of their best thought 
Raised at noon and near them brought ; 
Or the prayer they made last night 
Set before them all in white. 
Jean Ingelow. 
