Lilies of Lethe
By George Sterling
Revealed of your own light, How mystical you shine In shadowlands divine O lilies of the night! A wind is on my face Flown not from land nor sea, It bears your breath to me As from a holy place Tho still the night and deep I wander but in dream The darkness where your gleam, O farther flowers of sleep! I venture not to take One ghostly chalice up, Lest tears be in the cup, Lest nevermore I wake He on whose path you sway Beyond the silence goes, And they that wear your snows Return not to the day.
Los Angeles Times, Jul 1, 1923, pg III38