The germ of the water lily.
He sang of Faith—of the eye that seeks
With a sightless aspiration
The source of Love and the fount of Light,
Till far in the folds of the utmost night,
Storm-swept with fierce temptation,
A light breaks through like a faint white star,
That grows and grows like the dawning,
Till, veiled in vapors, it hangs above
The wakened soul as the face of Love,