As Lily Grows Up Easily, In Modest, Gentle Dignity To Sweet Perfection, So Grew She, As Easily. Or As The Rose That Takes No Care Will Open Out On Sunny Air Bloom After Bloom, Fair After Fair, Sweet After Sweet; Just So Did She, As Carelessly. She Is Our Torment Without End, She Is Our Enemy And Friend, Our Joy, Our Woe; And She Will Send Madness Or Glee To You And Me, And Endlessly.