THE LILY OF THE VALLEY—MAIDENHOOD. 
39 
Silver petals starred with gold, 
Let the bee among thy bells 
LOWER of light, forget thy birth, 
Daughter of the sordid earth, 
Lift the beauty of thine eye 
To the blue ethereal sky. 
While thy graceful buds unfold 
Waft thy breath to heaven like prayer. 
Cloud and sun alternate shed 
Gloom or glory round thy head ; 
Morn impearl thy leaves with dews, 
Evening lend them rosy hues, 
Noon with snow-white splendour bless. 
Night with glow-worm jewels dress. 
Thus fulfil thy summer-day, 
Spring, and flourish, and decay; 
Live a life of fragrance,— then 
Disappear,—to rise again, 
When thy sisters of the vale 
Welcome hack the nightingale. 
So may she, whose name I write, 
Be herself a flower of light, 
Live a life of innocence. 
Die to be transplanted hence 
To that garden in the skies 
Where the lily never dies. 
