The lilies are often similized to girls, symbolizing beauty. The image of lilies in poems are often lyrical. A flower usually has many names, or a name sometimes indicates more than one flower. And Lilies, also known as Hue (in Vietnam), have white, yellow and pink colors, each color carries a different meaning. To help you gain a better understanding of lilíes, here are the most popular poems about Lily flowers nowadays.
When it comes to Lily flowers, everyone thinks of the noble, majestic and proud beauty. And yes, the Lilies not only symbolize the beauty and virtue but also pride, nobility and faithful love. Therefore, Lilies should be a perfect gift for moms and lovers or even a greeting message and inspiration for many poets.
Each kind of flower has its own beauty and meaning, and that beauty can be seen through its appearance, its color and its fragrance. However, there are hidden beauties within the every flower, the fragrance that only poets and writers with poetic souls can feel deeply when they meticulously observe. And Lilies are one of them, in order to feel all the beauty, nobility and pride of this flower, let’s see poems about Lily flowers collected by OZoFe.Com.
His left hand is under her head
and his right hand doth Embrace her.
And by the hinds of the field,
that ye stir not up, nor awake
The voice of love, He cometh
Leaping upon the Mountains,
Skipping upon the hills.
Beloved spake and said,
Rise up, My love, my fair one.
Come away for the winter is past,
The rain in over and gone.
The Flowers appear on the earth:
The beautiful Lily of the Valley,
The time of the singing of birds is come.
And the light of the Lily Shine with her beauty and love.
Like a white water lily
drifting on a dark pond,
you lay beside me.
Every part of you are pure
and heavenly designed,
to be more than perfect for me.
Your fingers entwine into mine
and your body,
softly touch me with caressing warmth.
I drift deeper into your centre core
and bind forever more
with something far greater,
than passion and physical rapture
of two hungry souls
and you remain mine
through the passage
of all time
and I know how deep
and far and wide
your love really is.
3, Lily by Gert Strydom
Oh dear sweet Lily
how sad that life
is dragging us apart
and that by choice
you are living
a life of your own.
When you have time
or want to reach out to me
no pure flower,
or desire can change
the way that you treat me.
Even the enticing petals
of your naked skin
cannot win over
what is getting lost
when you do not
really want to comprehend
of the way that things
are going between us.
She was broken from the moment that he left her
She had watched as every piece of him left home
And nursing him through months of pain she listened
As his final breath meant she was now alone
Rejecting heart felt sympathy from others
She chose to stop and lose the will to live
Avoiding everyone and those who loved her
She felt that she had nothing else to give
And now alone she seeks out isolation
Denying friendship, fading every day
Until one day her world will fall around her
By then she will have driven all away.
Like an unwavering Carla lily
Majestic, you are valley’s beauty
Stand tall, strong, dressing purity
Poets dream of your wonder and mystery
A stem with a reddish bud on,
A crown among the fairest in the sun;
It’s the rose you all can see,
That opens its flower beneath a tree.
It’s for you to adore and cheer,
If you do care for it being here;
It opens its crown to a bumble bee,
It grows its fairest for you and me.
Then there is the lily white as snow,
Or yellow or pink petals to show;
Can you not say it’s fairest too?
Its April flowers grow just for you.
It shows you the newborn in lives,
When its blooms first in spring arrives;
With fragrance that freshens the air,
I love to have both these flowers here.
7, Spring Lily by Lamar Cole
Out in the garden for all to see.
Is the bloom of the Spring Lily.
Catching the rays of the sun.
Anticipating summer and all its fun.
Beautiful is this lily with a radiant glow.
As water from the birdbath flows.
Sweet scent blowing in the wind.
One of the sweetest flowers that nature sends.
Oh lovely as a lily was my son
Tender, the cherry lip that milked my love
A gilded cage to guard my pretty one
I fashioned him, a rainbow for a dove
An unkind Springtime sought the lily’s fall
A stormy summer dashed the dancing prow
His cherry lip was seared by autumn’s gall
And Winter set the thorn upon his brow
Drought twists the gentle sapling’s lissom head
The maggot, Blight, devours the cherry’s heart
A pestilence despoils the lily’s bed
Cannibal storm rends the flower apart
Oh lovely as a lily was my son
The very dewdropp smiled to see him pass
A robber stole his innocence, long gone
I fear the serpent waiting in the grass
Lily, such a gentle name,
Like a whisper in life’s garden,
The melody of a lullaby just sung.
Sweet baby girl, now Miss Lily White,
Grown up and blessed with velvet
brown eyes and skin the color of melba toast;
She is glazed with brown sugar and a dash
Of sepia mellowed sunshine…
I wonder who named her Lily.
Perhaps they knew she would sparkle.
Lily, quietly spilling like a song
That lingers in your memory and
10, Lily by Edward Kofi Louis
The inspiration of love and the hope of your dreams,
And of my poems to mankind to gain wisdom;
But you are my lover behind the veil.
Life today is like,
The government of the people and by the people;
And in this last generation to look for a lover,
But the scriptures are there to guide us all.
Your name is Lily and i love you,
And like the promises made all over the world!
But you are my lover behind the veil.
11, Blue Lily by Gajanan Mishra
Closes its petals
When the sun appears.
And for fear of
Snakes no one sits
Under a sandalwood tree.
No one drinks
The water of
How great you may be
But you lack
Concern for others,
And I am not the one
To go to you.
12, Autumn Lily by Gajanan Mishra
Let me request you
To show me
The path of peace.
I know, autumn lily,
You are wise
I know, you are
The path of wisdom
In this autumn.
You are the symbol
Of purity, I know,
You said-the obstacle
Of existence is life.
13, White Water Lily by Gajanan Mishra
O my white water lily, my dear
I know you are here as I appear
You are attached to me I know
And my poems are highly beneficial
To you as because my poems are
In Truth and in love.
Infinite and my poems
Infinite are the virtues of my poems
O my white water lily, you know it
The dimensions of my poems are immeasurable
My thoughts are pure see my dear
The purity of my poems are also unimaginable.
I am and my poems are inseparable
I am with my poems and my poems are with me
And You are the only subject matter of my poems
I am writing on You for You and You are
The only reader and You are ready to hear
From me always I feel no surprise in it.
14, The Lily And The Bee by Henry Lawson
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?
15, The Lily by William Blake
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat’ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
16, A Pure White Lily by Lewis Jian
pick a pure white lily
and place it
on the tomb
of my innocent youth
I’ll write you
the last poem of romance
and bury it
in the tomb
the bewitching mirage
of your mesmerism
17, The Water Lily by Exotics
A silent water lily
From the dark lake doth rise;
Her tender snow-white blossom
On the still water lies.
The moon, from highest heaven,
Pours down its golden light;
And all its rays are gathered
Into that blossom bright
Around that snow-white flower
A singing swan doth float;
It is his dying hour,
It is his dying note.
He pours his soul in music.
His heart must break, ere long:
O flower,–snow-white flower!
Wilt thou not hear his song?
18, To The Wood Lily by Anonymous
Lone Lily, on thy slender stem,
Thou’dst grace a regal diadem,
But art thou, lovely child of light,
As vain and proud as thou art bright?
The question is no sooner sent
From my rash lips, than I repent;
I know that pride is not thy dower,
Thou unassuming rustic flower.
Thou’dst smile with just as sweet a grace,
Into the little beggar’s face,
As if she were a prince’s child,
And all the world upon her smiled.
Thou, by the One who sends the showers,
And gentle dews upon the flowers,
Art with his charity imbued,
Blessing the evil and the good.
19, Lily by Neil Weiss
When you rose in your dirndle skirt,
it was as if summer seas
spoke up in the spout of your blouse,
and your face was a moon on these.
Where you sat was a lily pad
underneath, set up for an easel:
each rising bell of water froze
a bubble for maternities.
Children were possible
between your knees, the ritual
your fears, subject to these,
would hold them off a little longer.
Your thighs in my mind at your rising,
the billow about your hips
pity stabbed with knowledge an instant!
though the moment would never stand.
But you did. And a bird flew the mesh
into a dissolving brew of whiteness,
my mind empty, and your shoulder
beauty-marked, a little older.
20, The Easter Lily by Louise Lewin Matthews
Easter morn with lilies fair
Fills the church with perfumes rare,
As their clouds of incense rise,
Sweetest offerings to the skies.
Stately lilies pure and white
Flooding darkness with their light,
Bloom and sorrow drifts away,
On this holy hallow’d day.
Easter Lilies bending low
in the golden afterglow,
Bear a message from the sod
To the heavenly towers of God.
21, Oh Lovely Lily by Amy Carmichael
Oh, lovely lily,
Growing in our garden,
Who made a dress so fair
For you to wear?
Who made you straight and tall
To give pleasure to us all?
Oh, lovely lily,
Who did it all?
Oh, little children,
Playing in our garden,
God made this dress so fair
For us to wear.
God made us straight and tall
To give pleasure to you all.
Oh, little children,
God did it all.
22, Faith Is Like A Lily Lifted High And White by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Hope is like a harebell trembling from its birth,
Love is like a rose the joy of all the earth;
Faith is like a lily lifted high and white,
Love is like a lovely rose the world’s delight;
Harebells and sweet lilies show a thornless growth,
But the rose with all its thorns excels them both.
23, Little White Lily by George Macdonald
Little White Lily sat by a stone,
Drooping and waiting till the sun shone.
Little White Lily sunshine has fed;
Little White Lily is lifting her head.
Little White Lily said: “It is good,
Little White Lily’s clothing and food.”
Little White Lily dressed like a bride!
Shining with whiteness, and crowned beside!
Little White Lily drooping with pain,
Waiting and waiting for the wet rain,
Little White Lily holdeth her cup;
Rain is fast falling and filling it up.
Little White Lily said: “Good again,
When I am thirsty to have the nice rain.
Now I am stronger, now I am cool;
Heat cannot burn me, my veins are so full.”
Little White Lily smells very sweet;
On her head sunshine, rain at her feet.
Thanks to the sunshine, thanks to the rain,
Little White Lily is happy again.
24, The Lily by Hannah Flagg Gould
Imperial beauty! fair, unrivalled one!
What flower of earth has honor high as thine,—
To find its name on His unsullied lips,
Whose eye was light from heaven?
In vain the power
Of human voice to swell the strain of praise
Thou hast received; and which will ever sound
Long as the page of inspiration shines—
While mortal songs shall die as summer winds
That, wafting off thine odors, sink to sleep!
I will not praise thee, then; but thou shalt be
My hallowed flower! The sweetest, purest thoughts
Shall cluster round thee, as thy snowy bells
On the green, polished stalk, that puts them forth!
I will consider thee, and melt my cares
In the bland accents of His soothing voice,
Who, from the hill of Palestine, looked round
For a fair specimen of skill divine;
And, pointing out the Lily of the field,
Declared, the wisest of all Israel’s kings,
In his full glory, not arrayed like thee!
25, Consider the Lilies by John B. Tabb
Tis not the radiant star above
That breathes for me the lore of love
As doth the dewy censer sweet
That Heaven enkindles at my feet.
Yea, more for me of tenderness
Is uttered in the mute caress
Upon these moistened petals found,
Than e’er was wedded unto sound.
26, Consider The Lilies by Peter Burn
Consider the lilies,
Ye sons of despair;
Consider the lilies,
Ye daughters of care,
And from them instruction receive:
Though fragile and feeble,
Yet, see how they grow,
“They toil not, they spin not,”
Nor care do they know,
But, kept by their Maker, they live.
Consider the lilies!
To them ever give
Attention and study—
They’ll teach you to live,
The secret of peace they will show;
Then, ye from distresses
And cares shall be free,
Like them ye shall flourish,
Though lowly ye be,
Like them, ye in vigour shall grow.
27, A Snow-White Lily by Alfred Austin
There was a snow-white lily
Grew by a cottage door:
Such a white and wonderful lily
Never was seen before.
The earth and the ether brought it
Sustenance, raiment, grace,
And the feet of the west wind sought it,
And smiled in its smiling face.
Tall were its leaves and slender,
Slender and tall its stem;
Purity, all its splendour,
Beauty, its diadem.
Still from the ground it sprouted,
Statelier year by year,
Till loveliness clung about it,
And was its atmosphere.
And the fame of this lily was bruited
‘Mong men ever more and more;
They came, and they saw, and uprooted
Its life from the cottage door.
For they said, “‘Twere shame, ’twere pity,
It here should dwell half despised.
We must carry it off to the city,
Where lilies are loved and prized.”
The city was moved to wonder,
And burst into praise and song,
And the multitude parted asunder
To gaze on it borne along.
Along and aloft ’twas uplifted,
From palace to palace led;
Men vowed ’twas the lily most gifted
Of lilies living or dead.
And wisdom, and wealth, and power,
Bowed down to it more and more:—
Yet it never was quite the same flower
That bloomed by the cottage door.
For no longer the night-dews wrought it
Raiment, and food, and grace;
Nor the feet of the west wind sought it,
To dance in its dimpling face.
‘Twas pursued by the frivolous rabble,
With poisonous lips and eyes;
They drenched it with prurient babble,
And fed it with fulsome lies.
Thus into the lily there entered
The taint of the tainted crew,
Till itself in itself grew centred,
And it flattery drank like dew.
Then tongues began words to bandy
As to whose might the lily be.
“‘Tis mine,” said the titled dandy;
Said the plutocrat, “’tis for me.”
Thus over the lily they wrangled,
Making the beautiful base,
Till its purity seemed all mangled,
And its gracefulness half disgrace.
Next they who had first enthroned it,
And blatantly hymned its fame,
Now, curdling their smiles, disowned it,
And secretly schemed its shame.
The lily began to wither,
Since the world was no longer sweet;
And hands that had brought it thither,
Flung it into the street.
A sensitive soul and tender
The flung-away lily found:
He had seen it in hours of splendour,
So he lifted it from the ground.
He carried it back to the garden
Where in olden days it grew,
And he knelt, and prayed for it pardon
From the sun, and the breeze, and the dew.
Then the breeze, since it knows no malice,
And the sun that detesteth strife,
And the dew whose abode is the chalice,
Would have coaxed back the lily to life.
But the lily would not waken,
Nor ever will waken more;
And feet and fame have forsaken
Its place by the cottage door.
28, The Lily And The Rose by William Cowper
The nymph must lose her female friend
If more admired than she—
But where will fierce contention end
If flowers can disagree?
Within the garden’s peaceful scene
Appeared two lovely foes,
Aspiring to the rank of queen,
The Lily and the Rose.
The Rose soon reddened into rage
And, swelling with disdain,
Appealed to many a poet’s page
To prove her right to reign.
The Lily’s height bespoke command,
A fair imperial flower;
She seemed designed for Flora’s hand,
The sceptre of her power.
This civil bickering and debate
The goddess chanced to hear,
And flew to save, ere yet too late,
The pride of the parterre.
Yours is, she said, the nobler hue,
And yours the statelier mien,
And, till a third surpasses you,
Let each be deemed a queen.
Thus soothed and reconciled, each seeks
The fairest British fair;
The seat of empire is her cheeks,
Thy reign united there.
29, Water Lillies by Sara Teasdale
If you have forgotten water lilies floating
On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade,
If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance,
Then you can return and not be afraid.
But if you remember, then turn away forever
To the plains and the prairies where pools are far apart,
There you will not come at dusk on closing water lilies,
And the shadow of mountains will not fall on your heart.
30, The Star And The Water Lily by Oliver Wendell Holmes
The sun stepped down from his golden throne.
And lay in the silent sea,
And the lily had folded her satin leaves,
For a sleepy thing was she;
What is the Lily dreaming of?
Why crisp the waters blue?
See, see, she is lifting her varnished lid!
Her white leaves are glistening through!
The Rose is cooling his burning cheek
In the lap of the breathless tide;—
The Lily hath sisters fresh and fair,
That would lie by the Rose’s side;
He would love her better than all the rest,
And he would be fond and true;—
But the Lily unfolded her weary lids,
And looked at the sky so blue.
Remember, remember, thou silly one,
How fast will thy summer glide,
And wilt thou wither a virgin pale,
Or flourish a blooming bride?
“O the Rose is old, and thorny, and cold,
And he lives on earth,” said she;
“But the Star is fair and he lives in the air,
And he shall my bridegroom be.”
But what if the stormy cloud should come,
And ruffle the silver sea?
Would he turn his eye from the distant sky,
To smile on a thing like thee?
O no, fair Lily, he will not send
One ray from his far-off throne;
The winds shall blow and the waves shall flow,
And thou will be left alone.
There is not a leaf on the mountain top,
Nor a drop of evening dew,
Nor a golden sand on the sparkling shore,
Nor a pearl in the waters blue,
That he has not cheered with his fickle smile,
And warmed with his faithless beam,—
And will he be true to a pallid flower,
That floats on the quiet stream?
Alas for the Lily! she would not heed,
But turned to the skies afar,
And bared her breast to the trembling ray
That shot from the rising star;
The cloud came over the darkened sky,
And over the waters wide:
She looked in vain through the beating rain,
And sank in the stormy tide.
31, The Lily of the Valley by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
Did Winter, letting fall in vain regret
A tear among the tender leaves of May,
Embalm the tribute, lest she might forget,
In this elect, imperishable way?
Or did the virgin Spring sweet vigil keep
In the white radiance of the midnight hour,
And whisper to the unwondering ear of Sleep
Some shy desire that turned into a flower?
32, The Lily of the Valley by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Sweetest of the flowers a-blooming
In the fragrant vernal days
Is the Lily of the Valley
With its soft, retiring ways.
Well, you chose this humble blossom
As the nurse’s emblem flower,
Who grows more like her ideal
Every day and every hour.
Like the Lily of the Valley
In her honesty and worth,
Ah, she blooms in truth and virtue
In the quiet nooks of earth.
Tho’ she stands erect in honor
When the heart of mankind bleeds,
Still she hides her own deserving
In the beauty of her deeds.
In the silence of the darkness
Where no eye may see and know,
There her footsteps shod with mercy,
And fleet kindness come and go.
Not amid the sounds of plaudits,
Nor before the garish day,
Does she shed her soul s sweet perfume,
Does she take her gentle way.
But alike her ideal flower,
With its honey-laden breath,
Still her heart blooms forth its beauty
In the valley shades of death.
33, A Lily of the Valley by Kate Slaughter McKinney
Just a breath of fragrance
On the breeze—alas!
A lily of the valley
Dying in the grass.
Just a recollection
Followed with a sigh;
Just a teardrop dripping
Down the cheek, and why?
34, A Lily of the Valley by Alfred Kreymborg
The tiger lily’s muted ecstasy.
Watered by mist and lashed by wind-blown rime,
She is no alien thing; but vivid, free,…..
Tattered by autumn storms, she will not fling
Herself to sullen foes. The winter rain
Alone can beat her down, to bloom again
Spring after spring
35, Stargazer Lily by Writinstuffs
She wears her finest star-shaped suit,
glittering in sunlight, she’s a charmer.
Impassioned floral, blushing pink and true
a lily of finest ancestral markers,
never graced a garden with such elegance.
Hera’s child, gushed forth from the breast,
sacred floral preeminent
puts Venus’s jealousy to strictest test.
With longer pistols than the white,
she’s the brightest lily delight!
36, The Lily by Mary Oliver
Night after night
enters the face
of the lily
closes its five walls
and its purse
and its fragrance,
and is content
to stand there
in the garden,
not quite sleeping,
saying in lily language
some small words
we can’t hear
even when there is no wind
are so secret,
is so hidden –
it says nothing at all
but just stands there
with the patience
until the whole earth has turned around
and the silver moon
becomes the golden sun –
as the lily absolutely knew it would,
which is itself, isn’t it,
the perfect prayer?
37, Love Lily by Dante Gabriel Rossetti by Mary Oliver
Between the hands, between the brows,
Between the lips of Love-Lily,
A spirit is born whose birth endows
My blood with fire to burn through me;
Who breathes upon my gazing eyes,
Who laughs and murmurs in mine ear,
At whose least touch my colour flies,
And whom my life grows faint to hear.
Within the voice, within the heart,
Within the mind of Love-Lily,
A spirit is born who lifts apart
His tremulous wings and looks at me;
Who on my mouth his finger lays,
And shows, while whispering lutes confer,
That Eden of Love’s watered ways
Whose winds and spirits worship her.
Brows, hands, and lips, heart, mind, and voice,
Kisses and words of Love-Lily,—
Oh! bid me with your joy rejoice
Till riotous longing rest in me!
Ah! let not hope be still distraught,
But find in her its gracious goal,
Whose speech Truth knows not from her thought
Nor Love her body from her soul.
With a natural kind of subtle ease
aromatic your small bell-shaped flowers
bloom somewhere among the many trees,
quietly springing up after rain showers
you bring happiness and bliss through fate
with a unmistakeable sweet green scent
luring the nightingale to its mate
before your fragile flowering is spent
as if some angels down your steps descent.
You May Also Like:
- Violet Poems – 29 Poems About Violet Flowers Pure & Lovely Beauty
- 60 Poems About Dandelion Flowers Delicate, Simple and Sincere Beauty
- 34 Best Poems About Lilies: Gentle Beauty of April
- 43 Best Poems About Lotus Flower: Pure & Noble Beauty
- 45 Best Poems About Lavender: Gentle & Delicate
- Rose Poems – 71 Classic & Contemporary Poems About Roses
- 20 Poems About Hydrangea Flowers: Gratitude and Sincere Feelings
- 46 Beautiful Poems About Sunflowers That Shine In The Blue Sky