George Willis Cooke, comp. The Poets of Transcendentalism: An Anthology. 1903.
Four White LiliesAnna Callender Brackett (18361911)
’T
When deep sleep falleth on man;
Out of the shadowless darkness it glided
Into shadowless darkness again.
On the smooth, slow waves I lay,
And through them I saw, but dimly,
The round white lilies sway.
And drew them, one by one,
Out of the smoky water
Up into the shine of the sun.
And sweet—for I tried, to see,—
I drew them by slippery stemlets,
One by one, up to me.
Stem by stem, with my teeth,
But the broad green leaves I left floating
In the water underneath.
To the yellow-dusted core,
And I counted them as I held them,
One, and two, and three, and four.
Till the cool petals touched my hand—
Did I drop them into the water?
Did I ever float to land?—
To shadowless darkness they grew,
But they haunt me, my four white lilies
Till I gather them anew.