My Lily-Tank

I said to the white pond-lily
   In her pool by the sounding deep,
"The winds are harsh and chilly
   That over your bosom sweep;
And they splash the spray of a stormy sea 
Right in your face in their saucy glee;
But come, pretty lily, and live with me, 
   Where the warmer air moves stilly."

So I gave her a well of cedar, 
   Sunk low in the level lawn,
And the rich, dark earth to feed her 
   From the soil of her birthplace drawn:
Twelve white pebbles were round the rim;
The water filled it to the brim,
And the grass peeped over to see her swim, 
   And the flowers bent down to greet her.

Across the wall my neighbor
   Looked quietly on, and said,
" You have done for me this labor, 
   My soul with its beauty is fed."
"You've done it for me, for me, for me!" 
The cat-bird whistled out of the tree;
"Mine!" twittered the sparrow; and chick-a-dee
   More merrily beat his tabor.

"'Tis a beautiful place for bathing,"
   They sang, as in they dashed;
One after the other, each gay thing,
   Ducked down, and fluttered, and splashed:
Over their heads the water flew, 
And into the lily-cups slid like dew;
Oh, all the birds of the orchard knew 
   I had made them a glorious plaything.

So have we a livelier pleasure 
   In all that another can share;
As a tree that gives shadow keeps fresher
   Than one that is surly and bare.
Better for others is better for you;
More than we mean is the good we do;
I plant one lily, and I pick two;
   And giving has doubled my treasure.