The Lilies
Picking a bouquet
of lilies
On a warm Spring
day.
I tied them with a
ribbon
So they would not
blow away
I truely love the Lilies ,
Treat them with tender
care
I always take a Lily,
place it in your raven
hair.
poem by Heather Burns
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Related quotes
River Lilies
Saw a boy three lilies white,
Lilies in the river,
Half heart-open to the light,
Full of golden arrows bright,
Each a silver quiver.
Lilies, lilies, lilies white,
Lilies in the river.
Said the boy, “I’ll pluck you there,
Lilies in the river!”
Said the lilies, “If you dare
You shall drown, or homeward fare
Dripping and a-shiver!”
Lilies, lilies, lilies white,
Lilies in the river.
Wilful still the boy would clasp
Lilies in the river;
Tumbled in ere he could grasp,
Scrambled out with puff and gasp,
Plucked no lilies ever.
Lilies, lilies, lilies white,
Lilies in the river.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The Lily and the Bee
I Looked upon the lilies
When the morning sun was low,
And the sun shone through a lily
With a softened honey glow.
A spot was in the lily
That moved incessantly,
And when I looked into the cup
I saw a morning bee.
“Consider the lilies!”
But, it occurs to me,
Does any one consider
The lily and the bee?
The lily stands for beauty,
Use, purity, and trust,
It does a four-fold duty,
As all good mortals must.
Its whiteness is to teach us,
Its faith to set us free,
Its beauty is to cheer us,
And its wealth is for the bee.
“Consider the lilies!”
But, it occurs to me,
Does any one consider
The lily and the bee?
poem by Henry Lawson
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You want a lily
You want a lily
And you plead with me
'Give me my lily back.'
I went to see
A friend last night and on her mantelshelf
I saw some lilies,
Image of myself,
And most unlike your dream of purity.
They had been small green lilies, never white
For man's delight
In their most blissful hours.
But now the flowers
Had shrivelled and instead
Shone spikes of seeds,
Burned spikes of seeds,
Burned red
As love and death and fierce futurity.
There's this much of the lily left in me.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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The White Lily
By the river bank
The frogs croak and caress
Hoping along the river bank
From here to there
At a distant
The swallows twitter with fondness
The lilies rupture with the morning sun
The water reeds sway
As the wind blows along
The river bank
But yet....i feel lost
In this scenery of dexteric desires
I feel caught in lifes pedestals
Tender steps i make....
Along the river bank...
Lilies..
The white lily...
That symbolise
The purity of those souls
Enmeshed in lovesframe
The white lily
That symbolise
The fire that burns within circles
The white lily that symbolises
Long lost desires
Re-invented and rejuvenated
In this river of dexteric desires
The white lily
So white...so pure...
By the river bank
I watch the white lily float and dance
Along the river waters
Their is tenderness in the river
The fishes swim with tenderness
The waters flowing
With a lovers moan
Rythmic drums can be heard from afar
Magic everywhere
I sit and stare at the white lily
With a longing yen....
By the river bank.
poem by Jack Shaka
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The Babies of Walloon
He was lengthsman on the railway, and his station scarce deserved
That “pre-eminence in sorrow” of the Majesty he served,
But as dear to him and precious were the gifts reclaimed so soon—
Were the workman’s little daughters who were buried near Walloon.
Speak their names in tones that linger, just as though you held them dear;
There are eyes to which the mention of those names will bring a tear.
Little Kate and Bridget, straying in an autumn afternoon,
Were attracted by the lilies in the water of Walloon.
All is dark to us. The angels sing perhaps in Paradise
Of the younger sister’s danger, and the elder’s sacrifice;
But the facts were hidden from us, when the soft light from the moon
Glistened on the water-lilies o’er the Babies at Walloon.
Ah! the children love the lilies, while we elders are inclined
To the flowers that have poison for the body and the mind.
Better for the “strongly human” to have done with life as soon,
Better perish for a lily like the Babies of Walloon.
For they gather flowers early on the river far away,
Where the everlasting lilies keep their purity for aye,
And while summer brings our lilies to the run and the lagoon
May our children keep the legend of the Babies of Walloon.
poem by Henry Lawson
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In the spirit of Rumi - 45 - The Lily
In the gardens of the world
as the world and seasons turn,
in a thousand thousand gardens,
in a million fields and valleys,
the lilies grow.
the lilies of the field – proud
yet modest in the grass, proud
that Jesus spoke of them;
lilies of the valley – proud
yet modest as their scent
sings and calls, amongst all
the heady scents of nature,
the scent so close
to the wild cyclamen
in the hillside grass;
the regal lily, sharing with the rose
the Caliph’s and the Sultan’s gardens,
listening all their lives as lilies do
to the plashing fountain in the fragrant courtyard;
laughing quietly as the kohl-eyed beauties
round the Caliph in the evening garden
vie behind their silken veils
with perfumes mixed and strange..
each day, one lily in the bed
reaches its perfection, glows,
exults in its day of unique status,
as every lily has its day..
What honour then, can God bestow
upon his creatures, so magnificent,
so thunderous in their praise of Him
for those with ears to hear?
His most precious gift, which even men
rarely earn with all a lifetime serving Him –
a glimpse of His perfection..
And the regal lily, full of the humility
of the lily, Mary’s flower,
bows its slender neck
yields all its beauty, bowing low,
folds its curled petals, as Mary
submitting to the will of God;
and we, walking in the garden,
glance and say ‘Behold,
that lily which, but yesterday, was perfect,
is fading now already…’ and in our heart
passes, is discarded, the evening chill
of knowing ourselves to be that lily..
pride, humility, the gifted glimpse of God’s perfection,
barely acknowledged as they pass..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Jehovah
Consider the lilies of the field,
Solomon dressed in royal robes
Has not the worth of them.
Consider the lilies of the field.
He takes after each and every need.
Leave all your cares behind,
Seek him and you will find
Your father loves you so.
Consider the creatures of the air.
For all of the diamonds in all the earth
Have not the wealth of them.
Consider the creatures of the air.
Jehovah loves them with tender hand.
He knows your every care,
His touch is always there
To see you through the night.
And jehovah I love you so,
And jesus I want you to know,
All youve done for me to set me free,
Ill never let you go.
And jehovah I love you so,
And jesus I want you to know,
All youve done for me to set me free,
Ill never let you go.
Consider the lilies of the field.
For how much more does he love his own,
If yaweh cares for them.
Consider the creatures of the air.
He takes after each and every need.
If we ask him for bread,
Will he give us a stone?
Jehovah loves his own.
And jehovah I love you so,
And jesus I want you to know,
All youve done for me to set me free,
Ill never let you go.
And jehovah I love you so,
And jesus I want you to know,
All youve done for me to set me free,
Ill never let you go.
And jehovah I love you so,
And jesus I want you to know,
All youve done for me to set me free,
Ill never let you go.
And jehovah I love you so,
And jesus I want you to know,
All youve done for me to set me free,
Ill never let you go.
And jehovah I love you so,
And jesus I want you to know,
All youve done for me to set me free,
Ill never let you go.
And jehovah I love you so,
And jesus I want you to know,
All youve done for me to set me free,
Ill never let you go.
And jehovah I love you so,
And jesus I want you to know,
All youve done for me to set me free,
Ill never let you go.
(neer let you go....)
(never go....)
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lily In Your Mind (for Susan)
be thankful that it was quick
love suddenly skinned out from your bosom
like a vaccine injection
and then you realize everything is gone
like a wink and then
what you see is an empty room a bed without a shadow
of a man against the moon on an open window
i do not send flowers nor cards
they cannot help drown the grief
i leave you alone with the memories of the lilies
white lilies and soft winds caressing your hair one night
sleep now Susan, dream some more, do not wake up early
tomorrow comes and you must know another name
soon.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-60
Asiatic lily(Asiatic hybrid lily
Lilium x asiatica)
Deceptive your buds far farther
Like water lily as they look
In closer sight but true lilies
Divine really anywhere nearer
Ofcourse fragrant little mild
Some scentless albeit colourful
Leaves strappy on stems upright
Blossoms big and small and hybrid
Hybridized just to feast the eyes
Nay, the soul red, purple and white
Pink of blossoms bigger Oriental
In closer sight divine all lilies
Hybridized colourful to look better
Nay, sweeter gold, orange and white
Pink of blossoms smaller Asiatic
Divine naturally really so closer
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Country Song
`Lily of the Valley (Convalaria Majalis, fam. Lilliaceae). Grows wild in N. England. Commonly cultivated. Flowers in May. Berries red when ripe. Leaves particularly poisonous because three constituents depress the heart, like Foxglove.'
What are the constituents that depress the heart?
the scent of lilies in dark green silences under trees
milkweed and ragwort and sunshine in hedges
small flowers picked amongst trees when it's raining
A year ago
You planted lilies in the valley of my mind
There were lilies at the bottom of my garden
And ferrys at the bottom of my street
Now
I sit here in sunlight with the smell of wild garlic
Trying to tape record the sound of windflowers and
celandines
Wondering What are the three constituents that depress the heart Without you here in the country?
poem by Adrian Henri
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For a Picture of St. Dorothea
I bear a basket lined with grass;
I am so light, I am so fair,
That men must wonder as I pass
And at the basket that I bear,
Where in a newly-drawn green litter
Sweet flowers I carry,—sweets for bitter.
Lilies I shew you, lilies none,
None in Caesar’s gardens blow,—
And a quince in hand,—not one
Is set upon your boughs below;
Not set, because their buds not spring;
Spring not, ’cause world is wintering.
But these were found in the East and South
Where Winter is the clime forgot.—
The dewdrop on the larkspur’s mouth
O should it then be quench`d not?
In starry water-meads they drew
These drops: which be they? stars or dew?
Had she a quince in hand? Yet gaze:
Rather it is the sizing moon.
Lo, linkèd heavens with milky ways!
That was her larkspur row.—So soon?
Sphered so fast, sweet soul?—We see
Nor fruit, nor flowers, nor Dorothy.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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When Spring Is In The Air
You always know
when spring is in the air;
the trees start to show
their blossom everywhere.
Birds go through the ritual
of picking their mate.
Love seems to touch
every living thing
at this time of the year.
Slowly courting couples
will emerge from winter’s cold
and find the warmth of spring.
The sun will give us its grace
and warm breezes will blow.
Calling to everyone,
wake up spring is here.
7 April 2008
poem by David Harris
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My Friend
'He is my friend,' I said,--
'Be patient!' Overhead
The skies were drear and dim;
And lo! the thought of him
Smited on my heart--and then
The sun shone out again!
'He is my friend!' The words
Brought summer and the birds;
And all my winter-time
Thawed into running rhyme
And rippled into song,
Warm, tender, brave, and strong.
And so it sings to-day.--
So may it sing alway!
Though waving grasses grow
Between, and lilies blow
Their trills of perfume clear
As laughter to the ear,
Let each mute measure end
With 'Still he is thy friend.'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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The wind from the West
Blow high, blow low,
O wind from the West;
You come from the country
I love the best.
O say have the lilies
Yet lifted their heads
Above the lake-water
That ripples and spreads?
Do the little sedges
Still shake with delight,
And whisper together
All through the night?
Have the mountains the purple
I used to love,
And peace about them,
Around and above?
poem by Edward Young
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Water Lilies
Where the water-lilies go
To and fro,
Rocking in the ripples of the water,
Lazy on a leaf lies the Lake King's daugher,
And the faint winds shake her.
Who will come and take her?
I will! I will!
Keep still! Keep still!
Sleeping on a leaf lies the Lake King's daughter. . . .
Then the wind comes skipping
To the lilies on the water;
And the kind winds wake her.
Now who will take her?
With a laugh she is slipping
Through the lilies on the water.
Wait! Wait!
Too late, too late!
Only the water-lilies go
To and fro,
Dipping, dipping,
To the ripples of the water.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Ribbon Of Darkness
Ribbon of darkness over me
Since my true love walked out the door
Tears I never had before
Ribbon of darkness over me
Clouds a-atherin oer my head
That kill the day and hide the sun
That shroud the night when day is done
Ribbon of darkness over me
Rain is falling on the meadow
Where once my love and I did lie
Now she is gone from the meadow
My love goodbye
Ribbon of darkness over me
Where once the world was young as spring
Where flowers did bloom and birds did sing
Ribbon of darkness over me
Here in this cold room lyin
Dont want to see no one but you
Lord I wish I could be dyin
To forget you
Oh how I wish your heart could see
How mine just aches and breaks all day
Come on home and take away
This ribbon of darkness over me
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Warm And Tender Love
I was lost in the deep and darkest night
No direction, not a single hope in sight
When i saw a fire burning brightly through
The storm that raged above
In the shadows of your warm and tender love
I was a stranger to the land and life around
In constant danger, being hurt by what i found
And of hurting what i treasured most
Foolish eagle never dove
Till i fell upon your warm and tender love
In the shadows of your warm and tender love
Now i gaze in peace at the lonely sky
That is raging high above
Safe in the shadows of your warm and tender, tender love
In the shadows of your warm and tender love
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lily Confidante
Lily! lady of the garden!
Let me press my lip to thine!
Love must tell its story, Lily!
Listen thou to mine.
Two I choose to know the secret --
Thee, and yonder wordless flute;
Dragons watch me, tender Lily,
And thou must be mute.
There's a maiden, and her name is . . .
Hist! was that a rose-leaf fell?
See, the rose is listening, Lily,
And the rose may tell.
Lily-browed and lily-hearted,
She is very dear to me;
Lovely? yes, if being lovely
Is -- resembling thee.
Six to half a score of summers
Make the sweetest of the "teens" --
Not too young to guess, dear Lily,
What a lover means.
Laughing girl, and thoughtful woman,
I am puzzled how to woo --
Shall I praise, or pique her, Lily?
Tell me what to do.
"Silly lover, if thy Lily
Like her sister lilies be,
Thou must woo, if thou wouldst wear her,
With a simple plea.
"Love's the lover's only magic,
Truth the very subtlest art;
Love that feigns, and lips that flatter,
Win no modest heart.
"Like the dewdrop in my bosom,
Be thy guileless language, youth;
Falsehood buyeth falsehood only,
Truth must purchase truth.
"As thou talkest at the fireside,
With the little children by --
As thou prayest in the darkness,
When thy God is nigh --
"With a speech as chaste and gentle,
And such meanings as become
Ear of child, or ear of angel,
Speak, or be thou dumb.
"Woo her thus, and she shall give thee
Of her heart the sinless whole,
All the girl within her bosom,
And her woman's soul."
poem by Henry Timrod
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Her Face And Brow
Ah, help me! but her face and brow
Are lovelier than lilies are
Beneath the light of moon and star
That smile as they are smiling now--
White lilies in a pallid swoon
Of sweetest white beneath the moon--
White lilies, in a flood of bright
Pure lucidness of liquid light
Cascading down some plenilune,
When all the azure overhead
Blooms like a dazzling daisy-bed.--
So luminous her face and brow,
The luster of their glory, shed
In memory, even, blinds me now.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Single Red Ribbon
Once there was a ribbon
a single red ribbon
two gold rings threaded.
Upon either end.
Upon a silver tray
were rings placed
with silver scissors
beside a single red rose.
In token symbol
of love everlasting
tender young love
beauty still held at bay.
Once there were two hearts
lonely grief striken hearts.
Hanging lost separate lives
like loose hanging threads.
As rings were tied
so were their lives.
As rings were sealed
in red threaded ties.
Rings must be taken.
Placed awaited longing finger.
Symbolically joining two forsaken.
Could no longer isolated linger.
Red ribbon cut
in a free easy moment
two joined in symbol
never free when apart.
Witness joining of two
could not be apart.
Symbolically spiritually two
already entwined deeply at heart.
Once there was a ribbon
a single red ribbon.
Two could not be apart
never were they apart.
With a love that outlasts
frail human heart.
With a love that outlasts
the very beats of their synchronized hearts.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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