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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.
"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!"
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.
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.
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!
For her, the lilies hang their heads and die.
For her, the lilies hang their heads and die.
Yet, the great ocean hath no tone of power
Mightier to reach the soul, in thought's hushed hour,
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Yet, the great ocean hath no tone of power
Mightier to reach the soul, in thought's hushed hour,
Than yours, ye Lilies! chosen thus and graced!
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 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.