A TREASURY OF STORIES, JINGLES AND RAHYVMES. LILY. LILY, wonder-sweet And pure as snow, I cannot touch you, Though I love you so. It seems as though, From out the blue aloft, A cloud of angels drifted, Slow and soft. And resting on your tall green stalks I found them. With wings half-folded, and Heaven’s fragrance round them. Flelen Gray Cone. | |