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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!
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.
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?
"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.
And the stately lilies stand
Fair in the silvery light,
Like saintly vestals, pale in prayer;
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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.
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.
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.
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.
. . . Purple lilies Dante blew
To a larger bubble with his prophet breath.
. . . Purple lilies Dante blew
To a larger bubble with his prophet breath.