Brought me a heart to mend;

And he said (I shall never forget it)

“’Twas broken by your friend.”

“The wound will grow deeper and wider,”

He said in a sadder tone,

“Unless you devise some method

To place it against her own.”

Then I crept away to my chamber,

But a thought, like a silver stream,

Kept trickling along the wayside

That bordered my restless dream.

So I hid this heart in a lily,

When the dawn began to break—

In a beautiful water lily,

That grew on the rim of a lake.

Yes, down on a snowy pillow,

In a cradle warm and deep,

I laid the little foundling,

And a ripple rocked it to sleep.

The dawn came up with blushes,

And shook from her gown the dew;

And I heard the song of the skylark,

As into the clouds he flew.

But the heart dreamed on in the lily

And I went at the close of day,

And found that my little treasure

Was chilled by the foam and spray.

So I warmed it upon my bosom,

Then cradled it back on the wave;

But I feared that the lily’s offspring

So I watched till the daylight vanished

Through the sunset’s purple bars,

Till the night climbed over the willows,

And lit up the moon and stars.

I thought I heard your footstep,

And low in the reeds and grass

I crouched, that there, unnoticed,

I might behold you pass.

You came in your regal beauty,

And, bright as the weird fire flies

That illumined the waving rushes,

I saw your glorious eyes.

You kneeled on the mossy margin—

I counted the lilies there;

Two buds and a creamy blossom

Were fastened in your hair.

Another was drawn from the water,

And, pushing the reeds apart,

I saw ’twas the very lily

Wherein I had hidden the heart.

You pinned it low down on your bodice,

Half hidden it lay in the lace,

And you passed by—“a two-fold existence,”

A new light enriching your face.

And though I am absent and distant,

Methinks I can still hear the tone

Of a heart that, with happy emotion,

Is beating, aye! close to your own.