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.

O lovely lily clean,
O lily springing green,
O lily bursting white,
Dear lily read more

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.

We are Lilies fair,
The flower of virgin light;
Nature held us forth, and said,
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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),

Very whitely still
The lilies of our lives may reassure
Their blossoms from their roots, accessible
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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.

"Look to the lilies how they grow!"
'Twas thus the Saviour said, that we,
Even in the read more

"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.

But lilies, stolen from grassy mold,
No more curled state unfold,
Translated to a vase of gold;
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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.

I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
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I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not 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.

Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom'st thy bed, fresh lily,
And whiter than the sheets!

Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom'st thy bed, fresh lily,
And whiter than the sheets!

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