One Easter Lily's Mission

ONE EASTER LILY'S MISSION

by Ada Stewart Shelton

The first faint flush of the fair Easter

dawn

Touched with its tender light a lily's

face,

So pure and fair that one would scarce

believe

It could find life in such a dreary

place.

High up amid the roof-tops crowded

close

Of wretched dwellings, stairways lead-

ing in

To darkened alleys, there the fair flower

grew,

O'erlooking want and misery and sin.

"My sisters sweet and fair will hail this

morn;

Within the churches' walls, with win-

ning grace,

They will proclaim to-day the Easter

joy;

E'en on the altar they will find a

place.

"What part is given to me this Easter

Day?

In all its gladness I can have no

share;

For even those who watch my leaves

unfold

Do scarcely know the day whose name

I bear."

Soon one drew near whose touch was

coarse and rough,

Withal the heart that guided it was

kind;

"The child that moans below shall have

my flower,

Maybe 'twill bring some comfort to

her mind."

Down the steep stairway, through the

alley dark,

Was the white lily carried, oh, so fair!

It seemed in passing through the dreary

place

To leave a benediction on the air.

Within a wretched, comfortless, dim

room,

Moaning with pain, with fever's vague

unrest,

A young child lay; with smile of radiant

joy

She clasped the Easter lily to her breast.

"Oh! is it really mine?" she mur-

mured low,

"It almost takes the pain; " the fair

flower lay

Close, closer pressed within that burning

hand,

Until at night both lives had ebbed

away.

Sweet was the life that the fair lily gave,

Though in the church's beauty she had

borne no share;

Lowly the work that waits in many a

path,

Rich are the blessings that lie hidden

there.