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The Nodding Meadow Lily
How came this modest lily fair,
In this lone meadow here to grow;
When other meadows far around
Can no such beauteous treasure show?
In this lone meadow here to grow;
When other meadows far around
Can no such beauteous treasure show?
Has it from some far centre come,
Where such fair flowers do most abound;
Brought by the winds, or flowing streams,
And here a soil congenial found?
Where such fair flowers do most abound;
Brought by the winds, or flowing streams,
And here a soil congenial found?
Or did it spring spontaneous here,
When earth brought forth each plant and tree?
Was this the Eden of its race?
Can Science solve the mystery?
When earth brought forth each plant and tree?
Was this the Eden of its race?
Can Science solve the mystery?
He who the soil could ready make,
And for each seed a place prepare,
Could here transplant from far thy germ,
Or here create, and for it care.
And for each seed a place prepare,
Could here transplant from far thy germ,
Or here create, and for it care.
Here, or in meadow like to this,
Though far away, thy golden flowers
First opened to the light of day,
The pride of summer's sultry hours.
Though far away, thy golden flowers
First opened to the light of day,
The pride of summer's sultry hours.
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Enough for me thy flowers to find,
Admire their form and matchless grace;
And own His love, who thus has given
Peculiar beauty to the place.
Admire their form and matchless grace;
And own His love, who thus has given
Peculiar beauty to the place.
Poem No. 180; c. 20 July 1877
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