 | Poems, Epigrams and Sonnets |  |
136
XIII. THE LILY.
Glory of flowers! pre-eminent o'er all,Thou white-rob'd lily, deck'd with pendant gold,
What blest remembrance, as thy leaves unfold,
To pure and humble hearts dost thou recall?
Discarded emblem! o'er degenerate Gaul
Waste we vain sighs? no longer as of old
Her regal banner to the winds unroll'd,
Weep we vain tears o'er chivalry's downfall?
No! thy unsullied leaves nor strife, nor din,
Of worldly warfare to the mind suggest;
No wreath from thee earth's haughty conquerors win;
Still seems Heaven's sainted Handmaid to invest
Thy form with beauty, free from stain of sin,
The Virgin Mother of all nations blest!
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