The Lily Poem by Albert Durrant Watson

EMBLEM of beauty and sorrow,
Twine with each wistful to-morrow
The past with its memories teeming
And all its dear innocent dreaming.
Go thou, O Lily, and o'er her cast
The drifting breath of the wind-swept hills;
Sing her the music of forest rills;
Whisper a dream of the sacred past;
Lie on her heart till the angels wake
Her deathless love for the old time's sake.

Still to that love I am turning
Though beyond reach of my yearning;
And never the vision shall vanish
Nor time nor eternity banish
That dream so splendid of love and tears
That still transfigures the lonely years.

Go, Lily, go with my love and lie
Close to her heart and never die;