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LILIES. 
The lady Lily, looking gently down. 
The Lily, of all children of the spring 
The palest — fairest too where fair ones are. 
-In virgin beauty blows 
The tender Lily, languishingly sweet. 
Queen of the field, in milk-white mantle drest, 
The lovely Lily waved her curling crest. 
-and sweetest to the view, 
The Lily of the vale, whose virgin flower 
Trembles at every breeze, beneath its leafy bower. 
BARTON 
-the nice-leaved lesser Lilies, 
Shading, like detected light, 
Their little green-tipt lamps of white. 
Ii. HUNT. 
No flower amid the garden fairer grows 
Than the sweet Lily of the lowly vale, 
The queen of flowers. 
Take but the humblest Lily of the field; 
And if our pride will to our reason yield, 
It must by sure comparison be shown, 
That on the regal seat great David’s son, 
Array’d in all his robes and types of pow’r, 
Shines with less glory than that simple flower. 
