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“Lilies” - poem from the 1902 Metate. Return to scaned image version of this poem.

“Lilies”

Across the quiet, sunny space,
  Along the waving blades of grass,
The creeping dial’s shadow marks
  The dreary moments as they pass.

There, in devotion—silent, rapt—
  Upspringing from the cool damp sod,
White-stoléd lilies offer up
  Their golden hearts in praise to God.

So like are they to one who soothed
  My childhood’s little griefs away,
That what I seek, each upturned flower
  Doth give me—solace for the day.