Solitude and the Lily / Richard Henry Horne

Solitude and the Lily
The Lily

I bend above the moving stream, And see myself in my own dream,— Heaven passing, while I do not pass. Something divine pertains to me, Or I to it;— reality Escapes me on this liquid glass. Solitude

The changeful clouds that float or poise on high, Emblem earth’s night and day of history: Renew’d for ever, evermore to die. Thy life-dream is thy fleeting loveliness; But mine is concentrated consciousness, A life apart from pleasure or distress. The grandeur of the Whole Absorbs my soul, While my caves sigh o’er human littleness. The Lily

Ah, Solitude, Of marble Silence fit abode! I do prefer my fading face, My loss of loveliness and grace, With cloud-dreams ever in my view; Also the hope that other eyes May share my rapture in the skies, And, if illusion, feel it true.