Out of the silence of the misty world,
Beneath the rippled bosom of the lake,
With every snow-tinged petal dew-empearled,
The lilies by the sun are kissed awake.
Up from the shadowy depths on slender stem,
Each virgin blossom climbs into the light,
Deeming it heaven—this, the sphere of men—
After the prison of the watery night.
Theirs is the symbol of our earthly life,
Fraught with the upward struggle of the years,
Shut in and deadened by the aging strife
That fills our days in spite of prayers or tears.
Ah, but the sunlit heights are just above,
Sweet with the solace of eternal Love!
