An unreflected light did never yet
Dazzle the vision feminine.
Thy prayer was "Light—more Light"—while
Time shall last
Thou sawest a glory growing on th3 night,
But not the shadows which that light would cast,
Till shadows vanish in the Light of Light.
Where God and Nature met in light.
A remnant of uneasy light.
The light that never was on sea or land,
The consecration, and the poet's dream.
But ne'er to a seductive lay let faith be given;
Nor deem that "light that leads astray" is light from Heaven.
LILAC
Syringa Vulgaris
The lilac spread
Odorous essence.
Jean Inuelow—Laurance. Pt. in.
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{{Hoyt quote
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| text = <poem>Go down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time;
Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London).
And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland;
Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London).
Alfred Noyes—The Barrel Organ.
I am thinking of the lilac-trees,
That shook their purple plumes,
And when the sash was open,
Shed fragrance through the room.
Mrs. Anna S. Stephens—The Old Apple-Tree.
The purple clusters load the lilac-bushes.
Amelia B. Welby—Hopeless Love.
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{{Hoyt quote
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| text = <poem>When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd—and yet shall mourn with everreturning spring.
Walt Whitman—When Lilacs Last in the Door-Yard Bloom'd. I. Leaves of Grass.
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{{Hoyt quote
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| text = <poem>With every leaf a miracle . . , and from this bush in the door-yard,
With delicate-colour'd blossoms, and heart-shaped leaves of rich green
A sprig, with its flower, I break.
Walt Whitman—When IAlacs Last in the Door-Yard Bloom'd. III. Leaves of Grass.
LILY
Lilium
I like not lady-slippers,
Nor yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Nor 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.
T. B. Aldrich—Tiger Lilies. St. 1.
And lilies are still lilies, pulled
By smutty hands, though spotted from their
white.
E. B. Browning—Aurora Leigh. Bk. III.
- * * Purple lilies Dante blew
To a larger bubble with his prophet breath.
E. B. Browning—Aurora Leigh. Bk. VII.
And lilies white, prepared to touch
The whitest thought, nor soil it much,
Of dreamer turned to lover.
E. B. Browning—A Flower in a Letter.
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.
E. B. Browning—Sonnets from the Portuguese.
XXIV.
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.
{{Hoyt quote
| num = | text = <poem>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. I/ilies,
