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.

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

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

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.

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),

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.

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.

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

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

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.

And lilies white, prepared to touch
The whitest thought, nor soil it much,
Of dreamer turned to read more

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