The Poetry of Real Life | ||
95
THE LILY OF PALESTINE.
Proud lily, thou hast sown not, neither spunThe garments of thy loveliness, and yet
Thine airy brows instinctively beget
Respect in all the flowers; there is none
But to thy beauty bends its head, as one
On whose high forehead Nature's hand has set
A kingly imprint, like an amulet,
That unto thee no treason should be done—
The proud earth bears thee as a goodly thing:
She lavishes upon thee every gift
Of beauty, and around thy form doth fling,
As if forgetful of her usual thrift,
More majesty than waits upon a King,
Above thy painted compeers thee to lift!
The Poetry of Real Life | ||