I. br SUNBEAMS can fling no purer brightness o'er the sea br And rain-showers bring no surer blessing to the lea, br And lilies wing with no more sweetness the gold bee, br Than those few lines thy hand has penned have brought to me. br br br II. br Soft lies the silent fall of snow br Upon the hemlock tree; br Soft lies the moonlight's silver flow br Upon the troubled sea. br br Sweet on the blossom of the vines br The night-dews drop from high; br But softer, sweeter far, thy lines br Upon my spirit lie.