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THE angels dropped us a wee white
flower,
Yes surely it was from heaven it fell:
Then came the wind and the beating shower,
But it was sheltered down in our dell.
And it grew and grew through the fresh spring days,
The sweetest blossom that ever God made:
Then came the sun with his scorching rays,
But down in our dell there was cool and shade.
And it grew and grew in the summer air,
It was a lily of Paradise,
And we watched it open each day more fair,
Nothing on earth so dear in our eyes.
And tenderly we fenced it about,
And the angels of Heaven they guarded it well:
Then came the time of the sultry drought,
But the brook ran clear in our shadowy dell.
So it grew and grew, come foul, come fair,
And never a soil on its whiteness stood,
And, because the angels made it their care,
From good and bad it drew only good.
And oh! the blessing to see it grow,
And I think that our hearts both grew as it grew,
And oh! we loved it, we loved it so!
And we called it ours and thought we spoke true.
But at last it had grown so sweet and so white,
That the angels could not leave it us still,
And they came and took it away in the night,
One sad still night when the mist was chill.
And oh! the blank when our lily went!
And we look in each other's faces alone,
And we say sometimes "Well it was but lent,"
Yet, even in Heaven, we call it our own.
And I think it must be meant for us at last,
For would God have made us love it in vain?
Perhaps, if the gates of Heaven were past,
His hand would give us our blossom again.
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A Woman Sold
Bartimaeus
Judas
Pilate
The Walk To Emmaus
A Bride
A March Night
A Messenger
A Mother's Cry
A Wedding
Afterwards
Dead Amy
Deserted
Dreaming
Glad Waves
Going
How The Brook Sings
If
In The Storm
In The Sunshine
Looking Downstairs
Mary Lost
Never Again
Night Whispers
On The Lake
On The Shore
Our Lily
Passing Away
Perjured
Safe
Shadow
Sunlight
The Blush Rose
The Gift
The Heiress' Wooer
The Hidden Wound
The Lake
The Land Of Happy Dreams
The Old Year Out
The Red Star On The Hill
The River
The Setting Star
The Shadow Of A Cloud
To And Fro
To One Of Many
Too faithful
Two Maidens |
