It was the voice of the Redeemer that called her.' And honest Dan repeated, through his sobs, a verse of that 'Song of Songs,' which little Lily had loved so well-- 'My well-beloved spake, and said unto me: Arise, my love, my fair one, and come thy way.' The old man bowed his sorrowful head listening.
'You never saw anything so beautiful,' said he after a while.

'I think, Dan, I could look at her for ever.

I don't think it was partiality, but it seems to me there never was--I never saw a creature like her.' 'Oh, noble! noble!' sobbed poor Dan.
The doctor took him by the arm, and so into the solemn room.
'I think you'd like to see her, Dan ?' 'I would--I would indeed, Sir.' And there was little Lily, never so like the lily before.

Poor old Sally had laid early spring flowers on the white coverlet.

A snow-drop lay by her pale little finger and thumb, just like a flower that has fallen from a child's hand it its sleep.