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Blossoms as lovely and sweet as thou
Shalt wither forgotten among the rest;
But thou shalt live in our memory now,
Clasped to that still, white-mantled breast.

Oh, dost thou fear in the tomb to fade,
Or shrink from the tear-bedewed couch so low;
Thou the last earthly blossom laid,
In the hands of One who has loved them so!

No, like a blessed symbol sent,
Thy incense rises to waft away;
Like a beautiful spirit just unpent,
Lingering gently but cannot stay.

Cover them o'er with the valley clods,
Safe from the blight of earth's frosty gale;
This was our lily, but that was God's,
Beautiful lilies so pure and pale.

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