Poem by Albert Durrant Watson

The Lily

EMBLEM of beauty and sorrow,
Twine with each wistful to-morrow
The past with its memories teeming
And all its dear innocent dreaming.
  Go thou, O Lily, and o'er her cast
The drifting breath of the wind-swept hills;
Sing her the music of forest rills;
  Whisper a dream of the sacred past;
Lie on her heart till the angels wake
Her deathless love for the old time's sake.

  Still to that love I am turning
  Though beyond reach of my yearning;
    And never the vision shall vanish
    Nor time nor eternity banish
  That dream so splendid of love and tears
  That still transfigures the lonely years.

Go, Lily, go with my love and lie
Close to her heart and never die;
  To her with my love I bequeath you,
Fair as the glow of the golden sky
When twilight falls and the breezes sigh,
  Sweet as the bosom beneath you,
Pure as the dew on the glistening sod,
White as the snowflake, perfect as God.

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