LILIES. 
516 
I found that Lily’s bloom, 
When the day was dark and chill: 
It smiled like a star in the misty gloom 
And it sent abroad a soft perfume, 
Which is floating around me still. 
I sat by the Lily’s bell, 
And watch’d it many a day ; 
The leaves that rose in a flowing swell, 
Grew faint and dim, then droop’d and fell, 
And the flower had flown away. 
I look’d where the leaves were laid, 
In withering frailness, by, 
And as gloomy thoughts stole on me, said. 
There is many a sweet and blooming maid, 
Who will soon as dimly die. 
THE LILY OF THE VALLEY AND THE ANEMONE 
ANON. 
Sweet flower, you fondly strive to hide 
Your lovely form from public view, 
While the gay blossom’s eastern pride 
Appears in every varied hue. 
So will a cultured feeling mind, 
Oft, trembling, shrink from worldly gaze, 
Whilst flippant w*it, at ease reclined. 
Spreads all around its transient rays. 
