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THE WHITE WATER LILY.
THE QUEEN OF FLOWERS.
Oh! vainly seek ye, 'mid the gardens store,
For one Flower so pre-eminently fair
O'er all the rest, that right of sovereignty
Must seem her heritage. The Rose is bright,
And wondrous fragrant; yet the Woodbine sheds
From her long bloomy streamers, breath as sweet:
And on them both the Violet might turn
Her soft blue eye in gentlest reproach,
That perfume such as her's should be o'erpast.
E'en the white maiden Jasmine, in her pride,
Would take the hue of jealousy, and turn
To envious yellow her complexion pure,
Were she deemed than the rest less fit to reign.
Seek not the Floral Queen among them all:—
But, leaving far behind the garden trim,
And shining palaces, where dwell the bright
Sun-worshippers of many a fervid clime,
Go to the lake's o'ershadowed margent, where,
Over the waves like fairy-carpets spread
For summer revelrie, lie leaves afloat,
