Mrs. Felicia D. Hemans

Yet, the great ocean hath no tone of power
Mightier to reach the soul, in thought's hushed hour,
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Yet, the great ocean hath no tone of power
Mightier to reach the soul, in thought's hushed hour,
Than yours, ye Lilies! chosen thus and graced!

The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit read more

The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck,
Shone round him o'er the dead.
. . . .
The flames roll'd on--he would not go
Without his Father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.

I come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
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I come, I come! ye have called me long,
I come o'er the mountain with light and song:
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth,
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth,
By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass,
By the green leaves, opening as I pass.

We pine for kindred natures
To mingle with our own.

We pine for kindred natures
To mingle with our own.

Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
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Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair--
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child!