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Flowers! when the Saviour's calm, benignant
eye
Fell on your gentle beauty; when from you
That heavenly lesson for all hearts he
drew.
Eternal, universal as the sky;
Then in the bosom of your purity
A voice He set, as in a temple shrine,
That Life's quick travellers ne'er might pass
you by
Unwarn'd of that sweet oracle
divine.
And though too oft its low, celestial sound
By the harsh notes of work-day care is
drown'd,
And the loud steps of vain, unlist'ning
haste,
Yet the great lesson hath no tone of power,
Mightier to reach the soul in thought's hush'd
hour,
Than yours, meek lilies, chosen thus, and graced.
Mrs. Hemans.
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