LILY OF THE VALLEY. 
Thee, too, a lovelier robe arrays. 
Than, even in Israel’s brightest days. 
Her wealthiest king array’d; 
Of thy twin leaves the embowered screen. 
Which wraps thee in thy shroud of green. 
Thy Eden-breathing smell; 
Thy arched and purple vested stem. 
Whence pendent many a pearly gem 
Displays a milk-white bell — 
Who forms thee thus with unseen hand ? 
Who at creation gave command, 
And willed thee thus to be; 
And keeps thee still in being, through 
Age after age revolving? —Who 
But the great God is he ? 
Bishop Manx. 
