165 
LILY. 
The Rose is cooling his burning cheek 
In the hip of the breathless tide ;— 
The Lily hath sisters fresh and fair. 
That would lie by the Rose’s side ; 
lie would love her better than all the rest, 
And he would be fond and true;— 
But the Lily unfolded her weary lids, 
And looked at the sky so blue. 
Remember, remember, thou silly one. 
How fast will thy summer glide, 
And wilt thou wither a virgin pale. 
Or llourish a blooming bride ? 
“ Oh! the Rose is old, and thorny, and cold, 
And he lives on earth,” said she; 
“But the Star is fair, and he lives in the air. 
And he shall my bridegroom be.” 
But what if the stormy cloud should come, 
And ruffle the silver sea ? 
Would he turn his eye from the distant sky 
To smile on a thing like thee ? 
Oh! no, fair Lily, he will not send 
One ray from far-off throne ; 
The winds shall blow, and the waves shall flow, 
And thou wilt be left alone. 
There is not a leaf on the mountain top, 
Nor a drop of evening dew, 
Nor a golden sand on the sparkling shore, 
Nor a pearl in the Avaters blue. 
That he has not cheered with his fickle smile. 
And warmed with his faithless beam,— 
And will he be true to a pallid flower 
That floats on the quiet stream ? 
4— 
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