I am wooed back to life again by
the smiles and tears of heaven, which are the sunlight and the dew, lo!
he is gone."

The angel smiled sadly to hear of the trusting, virgin fidelity of the
lily.

"Tell me," asked the lily, "will the north wind come to-day?"

"No," said the angel, "nor for many days yet, since it is early summer
now."

But the lonely lily did not believe the angel's words. Still looking
for her cruel lover, she held her pale face aloft and questioned each
zephyr that hurried by. And the angel went his way.

And the angel came next to a daisy that thrived in a meadow where the
cattle were grazing and the lambs were frisking.

"Nay, do not pluck me, sir," cried the daisy, merrily; "I would not
exchange my home in this smiling pasture for a place upon the princess'
bosom."

"You seem very blithesome, little daisy," quoth the angel.

"So I am, and why should I not be?" rejoined the daisy. "The dews
bathe me with their kisses, and the stars wink merrily at me all the
night through, and during the day the bees come and sing their songs to
me, and the little lambs frisk about me, and the big cattle caress me
gently with their rough tongues, and all seem to say 'Bloom on, little
daisy, for we love you.' So we frolic here on the meadow all the
time--the lambs, the bees, the cattle, the stars, and I--and we are
very, very happy."

Next the angel came to a camellia which was most beautiful to look
upon. But the camellia made no reply to the angel's salutation, for
the camellia, having no fragrance, is dumb--for flowers, you must know,
speak by means of their scented breath. The camellia, therefore, could
say no word to the angel, so the angel walked on in silent sadness.

"Look at me, good angel," cried the honeysuckle; "see how adventuresome
I am. At the top of this trellis dwells a ladybird, and in her cozy
nest are three daughters, the youngest of whom I go to woo. I carry
sweetmeats with me to tempt the pretty dear; do you think she will love
me?"

The angel laughed at the honeysuckle's quaint conceit, but made no
reply, for yonder he saw a purple aster he fain would question.

"Are you then so busy," asked the angel, "that you turn your head away
from every other thing and look always into the sky?"

"Do not interrupt me," murmured the purple aster. "I love the great
luminous sun, and whither he rolls in the blazing heavens I turn my
face in awe and veneration. I would be the bride