29 JULY 1876, Page 14

POETRY.

A WATER-LILY AT EVENING.

SLEEP, lily on the lake, Without one troubled dream Thy hushed repose to break, Until the morning beam Shall open thy glad heart again, To live its life apart from pain.

So still is thy repose, So pure thy petals seem, As heaven would here disclose Its peace, and we might deem A soul in each white lily lay, Passionless, from the lands of day.

Yet but a flower thou art, For angel ne'er or saint, Though kept on earth apart From every earthly taint, A life so passionless could know, Amid a world of human woe. F. W. B.