Lone hermits that the world has seldom seen: By quiet little shallow pools they grow, Thousands of lilies, dotted here and there, Tucked loosely in the grass's glossy hair, Waiting for some gay little breeze to blow Their lovely petals open, just to show The deeper sapphire that lies hidden there They will not grow in gardens, They must be In marshy places Whispering of the sea— In cool hidden places where men seldom tread These hermit lilies make their marshy bed. There—in the summer stillness—you will see Blue lilies nodding to you joyously. |