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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!
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.
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),
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.
"Thou wert not, Solomon! in all thy glory
Array'd," the lilies cry, "in robes like ours;
How read more
"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!"
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.
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.
But who will watch my lilies,
When their blossoms open white?
By day the sun shall be read more
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!