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Flowers-Lily: Quotations from Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations

The milk-white lilies, That lean from the fragrant ledge.— ALICE CARY — Pictures of Memory.

The citron-tree or spicy grove for me would never yield A perfume half so grateful as the lilies of the field.— ELIZA COOK — Journal. England. Vol. IV. St. 2.

Darlings of June, and brides of summer sun, Chill pipes the stormy wind, the skies are drear; Dull and despoiled the gardens every one: What do you here?— SUSAN COOLIDGE — Easter Lilies.

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.— DIONYSIUS

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.— JULIA C. R. DORR — A Red Rose.

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. HEMANS — Sonnet. The Lilies of

the Field. The lily is all in white, like a saint, And so is no mate for me.— HOOD — Flowers.

We are Lilies fair, The flower of virgin light; Nature held us forth, and said, "Lo! my thoughts of white."— LEIGH HUNT — Songs and Chorus of the

Flowers. Lilies. And round about them grows a fringe of reeds, And then a floating crown of lily-flowers.— JEAN INGELOW — The Four Bridges.

The hallowed lilies of the field In glory are arrayed, And timid, blue-eyed violets yield Their fragrance to the shade.— S. E. C. KINNEY — The Spirit of Song. St. 4.

"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.— MOIR — Lilies.

For her, the lilies hang their heads and die.— POPE — Pastorals. Autumn. L. 26.

Gracious as sunshine, sweet as dew Shut in a lily's golden core.— MARGARET J. PRESTON — Agnes.

The creamy leaf the pasture lily shows.— MARGARET J. PRESTON — Fra Angelico.

C. St. 10. Is not this lily pure? What fuller can procure 4 white so perfect, spotless clear As in this flower doth appear?— QUARLES — The School of the Heart. Ode XXX. St. 4.

ow bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily. Cymbeline-Act II. Sc. 2. L. 15. Like the lily, That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, I'll hang my head and perish.— Shakespeare — Henry VIII. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 151.

And the wand-like lily which lifted up, As a Mænad, its moonlight-coloured cup, Till the fiery star, which is its eye, Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky.— SHELLEY — The Sensitive Plant. Pt. I.

"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!"— HORACE SMITH — Hymn to the Flowers. St. 10.

A pure, cool lily, bending Near the rose all flushed and warm.— ELIZA L. SPROAT — Guonare.

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!— BAYARD TAYLOR — The Poet's Journal. The Garden of Roses. St. 14.

But lilies, stolen from grassy mold, No more curlèd state unfold, Translated to a vase of gold; In burning throne though they keep still Serenities unthawed and chill.— FRANCIS THOMPSON — Gilded Gold. St. 1.

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.— MARY TIGHE — The Lily.