Lo, as the lily lifts its shining bosom
From the lone couch of waters where it slept,
When the fair morn toucheth and waketh it;
So riseth up my lily from the deep
Where human souls are vexed in awful dreams!
[LILY spies her mother, darts down, and is caught in her arms. They land on JULIAN'S peak, and climb, LILY leading her mother.]
Lily.
Come faster, mother dear; father is waiting.
Lilia.
Have patience with me, darling. By and by,
I think, I shall do better.—Oh my Julian!
Julian.
I may not help her. She must climb and come.
[He reaches his hand, and the three are clasped in
an infinite embrace.]
O God, thy thoughts, thy ways, are not as ours:
They fill our longing hearts up to the brim.
[The moon and the stars and the blue night close
around them; and the poet awakes from his dream.]
A HIDDEN LIFE.
TO MY FATHER: with my second volume of verse.