Bayard Taylor

But who will watch my lilies,
When their blossoms open white?
By day the sun shall be read more

But who will watch my lilies,
When their blossoms open white?
By day the sun shall be sentry,
And the moon and the stars by night!

Higher than the perfect song
For which love longeth,
Is the tender fear of wrong,
read more

Higher than the perfect song
For which love longeth,
Is the tender fear of wrong,
That never wrongeth.

There's a pang in all rejoicing,
And a joy in the heart of pain;
And the wind read more

There's a pang in all rejoicing,
And a joy in the heart of pain;
And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens,
Are singing the selfsame strain.

Shelved around us lie
The mummied authors.

Shelved around us lie
The mummied authors.

Pansies in soft April rains
Fill their stalks with honeyed sap
Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.

Pansies in soft April rains
Fill their stalks with honeyed sap
Drawn from Earth's prolific lap.