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176
THE POND-LILY.
Reposing, all spotless and bright,
Alone on its watery plain,
It looked like an offspring of light,
That earth could not touch, but to stain:
No weed, grass, or shrub ever grew,—
No serpent had coiled at its side;
While man stood entranced at its view,
The reach of his arm it defied.
Alone on its watery plain,
It looked like an offspring of light,
That earth could not touch, but to stain:
No weed, grass, or shrub ever grew,—
No serpent had coiled at its side;
While man stood entranced at its view,
The reach of his arm it defied.
The sun, its pure beauty to keep,
His radiant portrait had sent;
And down to its stem in the deep
The luminous pedestal went:
The vault of clear azure on high
Was copied in fluid below;
And all the display of the sky
Surrounded its petals of snow.
His radiant portrait had sent;
And down to its stem in the deep
The luminous pedestal went:
The vault of clear azure on high
Was copied in fluid below;
And all the display of the sky
Surrounded its petals of snow.
So lovely,—so fragrant and fair!—
It seemed that an angel had come
In secret, and planted it there,
To show us a type of his home.
And those who to gaze on it came
Averred to the flower should be given
A fitter and holier name:—
They christened it Earnest-of-Heaven.
It seemed that an angel had come
In secret, and planted it there,
To show us a type of his home.
And those who to gaze on it came
Averred to the flower should be given
A fitter and holier name:—
They christened it Earnest-of-Heaven.
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