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WATER-LILIES.

Come away, elves! while the dew is sweet,
Come to the dingles where fairies meet ;
Know that the Lilies have spread their bells,
O'cr all the pools in our forest dells;
Stilly and lightly their vases rest
On the quivering sleep of the water's breast,
Catching the sunshine thro' leaves that throw
To their scented bosoms an emerald glow;
And a star from the depth of each pearly cup,
A golden star unto heaven looks up,
As if seeking its kindred, where bright they lie,
Set in the blue of the summer sky.
Come away! under arching boughs we'll float,
Making those urns each a fairy boat;
We'll row them with reeds o'er the fountains free,
And a tall flag-leaf shall our streamer be;
And we'll send out wild music so sweet and low,
It shall seem from the bright flower's heart to flow,
As if 'twere a breeze with a flute's low sigh,
Or water-drops trained into melody.
Come away ! for the Midsummer sun grows strong,
And the life of the Lily may not be long.

MRS. HEMANS' NATIONAL LYRICS.

YELLOW-FLAG, OR THE WATER-LILY.

How peaceful sails Yon little fleet, the wild duck and her brood. Fearless of harm, they row their easy way; The Water-Lily, 'neath the plumy prows, Dips, reappearing in their dimpled track.

GRAHAME.

THOSE groups of lovely date-trees bending,

Languidly their leaf-crowned heads,
Like youthful maids, when sleep descending

Warns them to their silken beds ;-
Those virgin Lilies, all the night

Bathing their beauties in the lake,
That they may rise more fresh and bright,

When their beloved sun's awake.

MOORE.

THE WATER-LILIES ;

OR,

A VOYAGER'S DREAM OF LAND.

There's a spring in the woods by my sunny home,
Afar from the dark sea's tossing foam ;
Oh! the fall of that fountain is sweet to hear,
As a song from the shore to the sailor's ear!
And the sparkle which up to the sun it throws,
Through the feathery fern and the olive boughs,
And the gleam on its path as it steals away
Into deeper shades from the sultry day;
And the large Water-Lilies that o'er its bed,
Their pearly leaves to the soft light spread;
These haunt me! I dream of that bright spring's flow,
I thirst for its rills like a wounded roe.

MRS. HEMANS.

N

CUPID'S BARK.

He little knew how well the boy

Can float upon a goblet's stream,
Lighting them with his smile of joy ;-

As bards have seen him in their dreams,
Down the blue Ganges floating glide,

Upon a rosy Lotus wreath *,
Catching new lustre from the tide,

That with his image shone beneath.

MOORE.

* The Indians feign that Cupid was first seen floating down the Ganges on the Nymphæa Netumbo.

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