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"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.
I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
read more
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.
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.
I wish I were the lily's leaf
To fade upon that bosom warm,
Content to wither, pale read more
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.
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!
For her, the lilies hang their heads and die.
For her, the lilies hang their heads and die.
Is not this lily pure?
What fuller can procure
A white so perfect, spotless clear
read more
Is not this lily pure?
What fuller can procure
A white so perfect, spotless clear
As in this flower doth appear?
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!
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.