Flowers large and flowers showy,

Brighten up the umbrageous dale, But modest sweetness marks the snowy,

Bell-like, Lily of the Vale.

Fragrance, in its fairy lightness,

Every nook and corner finds, Envying not the other's brightness,

Envy! rust of meaner minds.

Sweet lady! Lily ! how like thee

Would I through life's wood humbly wend !

The cup of fragrance, blest in me, Should cheer the lip of foe and friend.

My cup. my lot, with men to share,

In busy shop, or marts of trade. The bitter dregs of toilsome care

Are absent in the forest's glade.

Sweet lady ! Lily of the Vale !

En wafting sweets on friend and foe, I'll wander on and tell the tale,

And sow the seeds that thou would'st sow.

The fragrance I may cast around

Will little good, as thine, avail. Still would I share the holy ground

That loves the Lily of the Vale.

Sterling, Illinois.

[The measure of these verses is imperfect; as a specimen of poetical structure it is not above criticism. We have altered it a little here and there, and pass it for publication on account of the good sentiment it expresses. - Ed. G. M].