THE
LILY
OF
THE
VALLEY
,
CHOSEN
THE
EMBLEM
OF
INNOCENCE
.
SOPHROSYNE
,
companion
dear
,
Who
hangs
a
pearl
in
Pity's
ear
,
And
wanders
through
the
dewy
lawn
To
catch
the
rose-bud
newly
blown
,
And
tied
yon
knot
of
fringy
flowers
,
And
darken'd
all
the
grove
with
bowers
;
Who
bade
yon
Lily
of
the
Vale
Tell
o'er
her
artless
simple
tale
;
That
,
going
to
queen
Flora's
court
,
Where
once
a
year
flowers
all
resort
,
She
wander'd
through
the
woodlands
wide
,
And
saw
the
babbling
streamlet
glide
,
With
many
a
Daisy
sitting
here
,
And
many
a
Cowslip
walking
there
,
And
many
a
Harebell
tinkling
loud
,
And
many
a
Pansy
dress'd
and
proud
,
And
many
a
Primrose
faint
and
pale
,
All
stationed
up
and
down
the
dale
;
With
these
acquaintance
soon
she
made
,
And
lov'd
the
flowers
that
lov'd
the
shade
;
Ask'd
Flora
if
she
there
might
stay
,
And
shun
the
fervour
of
the
day
;
And
when
the
Primrose
pale
should
die
,
With
purer
sweets
her
loss
supply
.
This
humble
prayer
gay
Flora
grants
,
For
soon
supply'd
are
little
wants
;
And
bade
Retirement
form
a
shade
Of
willows
sweet
,
to
sooth
the
maid
.
But
Innocence
one
day
had
been
Culling
some
flowerets
on
the
green
,
And
many
a
gay
one
fondly
press'd
,
And
many
a
sweet
one
wooed
her
breast
,
But
yet
an
emblem
of
her
mind
This
blue-eyed
stranger
could
not
find
.
It
chanc'd
Sophrosyne
with
Eve
Went
out
,
her
'custom'd
bower
to
weave
,
And
sprinkling
with
soft
Pity's
dew
Each
drooping
flower
that
lost
its
hue
,
Bade
gentle
Eve
refreshment
lend
To
all
that
faint
or
lowly
bend
.
Not
far
from
hence
a
Nymph
was
seen
Of
meek-set
eye
and
artless
mien
;
Soft
white
the
well
turn'd
limbs
enfolds
;
Her
tresses
a
blue
riband
holds
,
And
as
the
winds
the
locks
unfurl
,
Give
birth
to
many
a
beauteous
curl
.
A
straw-wrought
hat
with
care
was
tied
,
As
if
her
lovely
face
to
hide
;
Her
apron
tuck'd
and
full
of
flowers
,
She
carried
to
Sophrosyne's
bowers
,
While
Innocence
was
waiting
there
,
And
tying
up
her
nut-brown
hair
—
For
all
the
flowers
she
yet
had
found
She
threw
upon
the
thankless
ground
—
And
thus
she
cried
:
"
Lie
there
—
I
see
Nought
can
prevent
my
destiny
;
My
race
is
run
unless
I
find
An
emblem
of
my
spotless
mind
;
This
Fate
avers
—
to
that
I
yield
,
And
quit
this
for
th'
Elysian
field
.
"
"
Simplicity
!
"
Sophrosyne
cried
,
"
Where
hast
thou
been
?
—
I
will
not
chide
;
But
haste
,
some
emblem
thou
can'st
find
Of
the
pure
,
spotless
,
artless
mind
!
"
"
O
!
yes
,
Sophrosyne
,
see
here
The
sweetest
flower
of
all
the
year
;
But
'tis
not
mixed
among
the
rest
,
I
ever
wear
it
in
my
breast
.
"
So
saying
,
show'd
the
Lily
fair
,
The
Valley's
pride
,
was
shelter'd
there
;
Then
Innocence
her
emblem
knew
,
And
own'd
how
strong
the
likeness
grew
;
And
own'd
,
too
,
that
no
other
flower
That
shows
its
face
at
any
hour
,
Could
e'er
so
tenderly
declare
'Twas
half
so
spotless
,
pure
,
and
fair
.