THE LILY OF THE VALLEY.
By Emma L. Pardon
BEFORE me, as I sit and rest, there stands
A vase of lilies beautiful and sweet;
They seem to charm my weariness away,
Their power to soothe and calm is so complete. Tho calm their outward form, on looking close,
The spark of fire within each bell I've found,
That proves their mission one of love to man,
And makes our hearts to God's own praise redound. Amidst their cool, broad, sheltering leaves they stand,
Modestly hiding in their safe retreat,
Exerting over all an influence kind,
Gladdening the eye, and rendering life more sweet. Behold the sick-room; enters in a child,
Bearing sweet lilies in her little palm;
With feeble eagerness the sick one turns;
Thy soothing presence bringeth rest and balm. Behold sad parents by a little grave;
With lilies of the valley low they bend,
And gently cover her, their only child,
Whose brief career a perfume sweet did lend. O lily of the vale, our Lord chose thee
An emblem of Himself; and oft my mind
Doth turn from symbol to reality,
To Jesus, holy, glorious, loving, kind. EMMA L. PARDON.
Albany, N. Y.