And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine: he feedeth among the lilies.

Consider the lilies of the field how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin; And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these

We are Lilies fair, The flower of virgin light; Nature held us forth, and said, "Lo! my thoughts of white." - Leigh Hunt (James Henry Leigh Hunt),

Very whitely still The lilies of our lives may reassure Their blossoms from their roots, accessible Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer; Growing straight out of man's reach, on the hill. God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.

And lilies white, prepared to touch The whitest thought, nor soil it much, Of dreamer turned to lover.