Poems (Gould, 1833)/The Lily
For works with similar titles, see The Lily.
THE LILY.
Imperial beauty! fair, unrivalled one!What flower of earth has honor high as thine,—To find its name on His unsullied lips,Whose eye was light from heaven? In vain the powerOf human voice to swell the strain of praiseThou hast received; and which will ever soundLong as the page of inspiration shines—While mortal songs shall die as summer windsThat, wafting off thine odors, sink to sleep!I will not praise thee, then; but thou shalt beMy hallowed flower! The sweetest, purest thoughtsShall cluster round thee, as thy snowy bellsOn the green, polished stalk, that puts them forth!I will consider thee, and melt my caresIn the bland accents of His soothing voice,Who, from the hill of Palestine, looked roundFor a fair specimen of skill divine;And, pointing out the Lily of the field,Declared, the wisest of all Israel's kings,In his full glory, not arrayed like thee!