OWN on the lake where the waters sleep In a trance of leafy gloom, Rocked ceaselessly by the lulling swell, In an endless waste of bloom, The fair white lilies, the bride-like lilies, Unbosom their rich perfume.
O lovingly, after the stars go out, And the silent night is done, When their morning choruses dear and sweet The wood-birds have begun, The fond white lilies, the bride-like lilies, Look up to their lord, the sun.
And a spell like that which the lotus owns, Steals over the charmed air, As, slow unclosing their shining leaves So wondrously pale and fair, The rich white lilies, the bride-like lilies, Their golden hearts lay bare.
White angels of the crystal lake, Hallowed with purity, There-is never a touch of earthly dust On their radiant drapery,— The sweet white lilies, the bride-like lilies, The fairest flowers that be!
OWN on the lake where the waters sleep 
OWN on the lake where the waters sleep 