476 
LEIGH HUNT. 
Know you not our only 
Rival flower,—the human ? 
Loveliest weight on lightest foot, 
Joy-abundant woman ? 
LILIES. 
We are Lilies fair, 
The flower of virgin light; 
Nature held us forth and said, 
“Lo ! my thoughts of white.” 
Ever since then, angels 
Hold us in their hands; 
You may see them where they take 
In pictures their sweet stands. 
Like the garden’s angels 
Also do we seem, 
And not the less for being crown’d 
With a golden dream. 
Could you see around us 
The enamored air, 
You would see it pale with bliss 
To hold a thing so fair. 
