Pure lily, open on the breast

Pure lily, open on the breast
Of toiling waters' much unrest,
Thy simple soul mounts up in worship
Like ecstasy of a spirit blest!

Thy wealth of ivory and gold,
All that thou hast, thou dost unfold!
Fixed in the unseen thy life breathes upward
A heavenly essence from out earth's mould.

Now comes the chill and dusk of night,--
Folds up thy precious gold and white!
Thy casket sinks within veiled bosom,
To ope the richer in morrow's light.