Lilies

"Manibus date lilia plenis."

"I like not lady-slippers, Nor yet the sweet-pea blossoms, Nor yet the flaky roses, Red or white as snow; I like the chaliced lilies, The heavy Eastern lilies, The gorgeous tiger-lilies, That in our garden grow."

"And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white."

"Purple lilies Dante blew To a larger bubble with his prophet breath."

"And lilies white, prepared to touch The whitest thought, nor soil it much, Of dreamer turned to lover."

"Very whitely still The lilies of our lives may reassure Their blossoms from their roots, accessible Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer; Growing straight out of man's reach, on the hill. God only, who made us rich, can make us poor."

"I wish I were the lily's leaf To fade upon that bosom warm, Content to wither, pale and brief, The trophy of thy paler form."

"And the stately lilies stand Fair in the silvery light, Like saintly vestals, pale in prayer; Their pure breath sanctifies the air, As its fragrance fills the night."

"Yet, the great ocean hath no tone of power Mightier to reach the soul, in thought's hushed hour, Than yours, ye Lilies! chosen thus and graced!"

"The lily is all in white, like a saint, And so is no mate for me."

"We are Lilies fair, The flower of virgin light; Nature held us forth, and said, "Lo! my thoughts of white.""

"O lovely lily clean, O lily springing green, O lily bursting white, Dear lily of delight, Spring in my heart agen That I may flower to men."

"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin."

""Look to the lilies how they grow!" 'Twas thus the Saviour said, that we, Even in the simplest flowers that blow, God's ever-watchful care might see."

"For her, the lilies hang their heads and die."

"Gracious as sunshine, sweet as dew Shut in a lily's golden core."

"Is not this lily pure? What fuller can procure A white so perfect, spotless clear As in this flower doth appear?"

"How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily."

"Like the lily, That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, I'll hang my head and perish."

"And the wand-like lily which lifted up, As a Mænad, its moonlight-coloured cup, Till the fiery star, which is its eye, Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky."

"Thou wert not, Solomon! in all thy glory Array'd," the lilies cry, "in robes like ours; How vain your grandeur! Ah, how transitory Are human flowers!"

"But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!"

"But lilies, stolen from grassy mold, No more curlèd state unfold, Translated to a vase of gold; In burning throne though they keep still Serenities unthawed and chill."

"Yet in that bulb, those sapless scales, The lily wraps her silver vest, Till vernal suns and vernal gales Shall kiss once more her fragrant breast."