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Flowers! when the Saviour's calm benignant eye Fell on your gentle beauty—when from you That heavenly lesson for all hearts he drew, Eternal, universal, as the sky— Then, in the bosom of your purity, A voice He set, as in a temple-shrine, That life's quick travellers ne'er might pass you by   Unwarn'd of that sweet oracle divine. And though too oft its low, celestial sound, By the harsh notes of work-day Care is drown'd, And the loud steps of vain unlistening Haste, Yet, the great ocean hath no tone of power Mightier to reach the soul, in thought's hush’d hour, Than yours, ye Lilies! chosen thus and graced!