The Chimney-Sweep and the Lilies.
By Anna R. Crever
So keenly he felt that he matched in his heart
The soot and the grime of his dolorous art,
That his soul-windows opened to catch all the
airs
That are poisoned and heavy from sin's thoro-
fares. And the sight of the lilies that bloomed by
the wall
Seemed to lie on his heart like the snow on a
pall;
The thought of their purity glistened and
gleamed
On the night of his conscience till darker it
seemed. But the lilies they bloomed by the wall in their
place,
Nor thought of their loveliness, sweetness and
grace;
And the Sweep read their lesson each night
as he passed
Till, within, he resembled the lilies at last. And tho he still toils mid the soot and the
smoke,
His heart is as pure as the lilies that spoke
With such eloquent silence, not dreaming at all
Of the good they were doing just there by the
wall.
—Anna R. Crever.