You May Also Like / View all maxioms
But lilies, stolen from grassy mold,
No more curled state unfold,
Translated to a vase of gold;
read more
But lilies, stolen from grassy mold,
No more curled 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 read more
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.
Gracious as sunshine, sweet as dew
Shut in a lily's golden core.
Gracious as sunshine, sweet as dew
Shut in a lily's golden core.
And the wand-like lily which lifted up,
As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, read more
And the wand-like lily which lifted up,
As a Maenad, its moonlight-coloured cup,
Till the fiery star, which is its eye,
Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky.
Like the lily
That once was mistress of the field and flourished,
I'll hang my head and read more
Like the lily
That once was mistress of the field and flourished,
I'll hang my head and perish.
And the stately lilies stand
Fair in the silvery light,
Like saintly vestals, pale in prayer;
read more
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.
And lilies are still lilies, pulled
By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
And lilies are still lilies, pulled
By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
We are Lilies fair,
The flower of virgin light;
Nature held us forth, and said,
read more
We are Lilies fair,
The flower of virgin light;
Nature held us forth, and said,
"Lo! my thoughts of white."
- Leigh Hunt (James Henry Leigh Hunt),
And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the
field, how they grow; they toil not, read more
And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the
field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:
And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was
not arrayed like one of these.