| Author |
Quotes |
| Alexander Pope | For her, the lilies hang their heads and die. |
| Bayard Taylor | 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! |
| Alexander Pope | For her, the lilies hang their heads and die. |
| Bible | 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. |
| David Macbeth Moir | "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. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | . . . Purple lilies Dante blew To a larger bubble with his prophet breath. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | And lilies white, prepared to touch The whitest thought, nor soil it much, Of dreamer turned to lover. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | 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. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | 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. |
| Francis Quarles | Is not this lily pure? What fuller can procure A white so perfect, spotless clear As in this flower doth appear? |
| Francis Thompson | 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. |
| Horace Smith | "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!" |
| John Masefield | 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. |
| Julia C R Dorr | 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. |
| Margaret J Preston | Gracious as sunshine, sweet as dew Shut in a lily's golden core. |
| Mrs Felicia D Hemans | 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! |
| Mrs Mary Tighe | 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. |
| Percy Bysshe Shelley | 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. |
| Thomas Bailey Aldrich | 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. |
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