THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 263 
THE LILY OF THE VALLEY 
BY BISHOP MANT. 
Fair flower, that, lapt in lowly glade, 
Dost hide beneath the greenwood shade 
Than whom the vernal gale 
None fairer wakes, on bank, or spray, 
Our England’s lily of the May, 
Our lily of the vale ! 
Art thou that “ Lily of the field,” 
Which, when the Saviour sought to shield 
The heart from blank despair, 
He show’d to our mistrustful kind, 
An emblem of the thoughtful mind 
Of God’s paternal care? 
Not this. I trow; for brighter shina 
To the warm skies of Palestine 
Those children of the East: 
There, when mild autumn’s early rain 
Descends on parch'd Esdrela’s plain 
And Tabor’s oak-girt crest, 
More frequent than the host of night, 
Those earth-born stars, as sages write, 
Their brilliant disks unfold; 
