In the remembering hours of night, When the fierce-hearted winds complain, The trouble comes into my sight, And the voices come again, And the voices come again. I see the tall white lilies bloom, (Mother of lilies, pity me!) The voice of lilies in the room (Mother of lilies, pity me!) Crying, crying silently. The voice of lilies is your voice, White lily of the world's desire; And yours, and yours the lily's choice, To consume whitely, as by fire, Flawless, flaming, fire in fire. O lily of the world's despair, And born to be the world's delight, Is it enough to have been fair, To have been pure, to have been white, As a lily in God's sight? When the dark hours begin to wake, And the unslackening winds go by, There comes a trouble, for your sake: O is it you, O is it I, Crying the eternal cry? I see the phantom lilies wave, I hear their voices calling me; O you, that are too pure to save, Immaculate eternally, Mother of lilies, pity me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SILLER CROUN by SUSANNA BLAMIRE AT CANDLE-LIGHTIN' TIME by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR RETRIBUTION by FRIEDRICH VON LOGAU NATURAL HISTORY by MOTHER GOOSE A LONDON FETE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE SONNET ON CATHERINE WORDSWORTH by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH HIS RETIREMENT by PHILIP AYRES SAY NO MORE OF ME by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD A ROW IN AN OMNIBUS BOX; A LEGEND OF THE HAYMARKET by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |