"They grew where waters tumbled dozen In little falls and whirlings,"
EASTER LILIES
They grew where waters tumbled down In little falls and whirlings, A canyon, where wild maidenhair Grew thick, and little frog-choirs sung Their Easter melodies among The fern-fronds green uncurling; Oh, I can almost see the spot, So shaded, cool and stilly, Whence came the creamy delicate Sweet Easter wild star-lily!
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Every day is a little life To live at our very best, Every night is a little death When the weary workers rest; If we make each day a small success The sum of our days cannot be less.
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Though scattered be my mortal dust By worm, or wind, or wave, Oh, priceless is the Christian trust! My God shall mark my grave.