When I wandered ’mong the lilies, Over hill and down the dale; And some bloomed in brilliant scarlet, Others pure as snowy veil, Spread their fragrance on the breeze. And I asked them why they came; And each blossom smiled to tell me That to speak of His dear name They had raised their fairest banners, Banners that the children seek, With a shout of baby gladness Lighting heart and eye and cheek. THE DIVER’S CRADLE SONG Come, little diver now under the sea, Bring up a crown of bright jewels to me. Bring me the coral, the sea-weed, the shell; Bring the anemones there in the dell, While baby’s awake. Come, little diver now under the sea, Gather the mosses and bring them to me. Find a sea-butterfly in the blue wave; Get me the pearls that are hid in the cave, While baby’s awake. Come, little diver deep under the sea; Find a bright star-fish and fetch it to me. I want a gurnet and sea-urchin, too; Come, little diver, we’re waiting for you, While baby’s awake. Waiting for you, and how long shall we wait? Golden stars gleam on the billowy gate. Why do you stay in the coral to sleep? Gather the jewels and rise from the deep, While baby’s awake. Ah, little diver, you’ve tarried so long! Baby’s soft eyelids droop low in the song: See how the bright fingers rest on her cheek; Whatever you bring, little diver, don’t speak, Lest baby awake. THE RISING GENERATION See ten thousand cradles swaying With their burdens to and fro; In the vales and on the mountains, Tropics warm and fields of snow; Every land and tribe and people Hears the little new-born voice; Sees the rising generation In its early thoughts rejoice. Shivering Greenland has these treasures, Wrapt in furs with tender care. Sunny India fans her birdlings In the warm and balmy air, And the spicy isles shed sweetness ’Round the little cherished bed: From pole to pole the mother’s bosom Pillows soft her darling’s head. Little velvet hands are playing; Little dimpled fingers move; Little restless feet are nestling; Little ruby lips of love All throughout the world are smiling: Precious baby hearts are light; Wondering at surrounding objects, Thinking all the world is bright. Then the countless groups of children Sporting as they glide along The stream of life, while bird and rillet Interweave their cheerful song With sweetest notes; and childhood’s hours Seem like a morning of delight Where gardens bloom with fairest flowers, Glittering with the dews of night.