Page:Poems Douglas.djvu/116

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110
the broken lily.
But on a day—a luckless day!
A zephyr sought the bow'rs,
Now dimpling with its kiss the wave,
Now sporting with young flow'rs;
Now wrestling with the lily fair,
In wantonness and play;
And up and down, and to and fro
Her bright head toss'd that day.

Too low she bow'd in striving with
The zephyr in its mirth,
Until her snowy garments came
In contact with the earth.
And when she graceful rose again
With proud elastic spring,
A dark spot dimm'd her loveliness—
She was a sullied thing!

A cloud, whilst floating o'er the scene—
To wash away the stain—
In pity to the thing defiled,
Pour'd down its well meant rain.
But too severe and heavily
Dash'd down the patt'ring shower,
Prostrating to the mouldy earth
The tiny, fragile flow'r.

Oh, had the rain in gentleness
Swept o'er the floral gem,
A purified and lovely thing
Might still have graced the stem!