And the world grows better by its advent,
This lovely lily, so kindly sent.
It rested once on its crystal bed;
Neither wind, nor wave, occasioned dread;
Admired by all as they passed it by,
Though the contrast oft produced a sigh;
In purer soil than affords this earth
This lovely lily must have had its birth.
Dive down in search, where the root is found;
In vain you look for the purer ground;