


























THE BOUQUET. 

LILY — WHITE, I 
LILIUM CANDIDUM. 
Purity and-Sweetness. 
I nook upon a face as fair 
As ever made a lip of heaven 
Falter amid its music-prayer ! 
The first-lit star.of summer even 
Springs not so softly on the eye, 
Nor grows, with watching, half so bright, 
Nor, mid its sisters of the sky, 
So seems of heaven the dearest light — 
Men murmur, where that face is seen, 
My youth’s angelic dream was of that look and 
mien. 
Yet though we deem the stars are blest, 
And envy, in our grief, the flower 
That bears but sweetness in its breast, 
And fear the enchanter for his power, | 
And love the minstrel for the spell 
He winds out of his lyre so well —. 
The stars are almoners of light, 
The lyrist of melodious air, } 
The fountain of its waters bright, 
And every thing most sweet and fair 
