"Consider how the lilies grow: They do not labor or spin. Yet, I tell you,
not even Solomon in all his glory was adorned like one of these."
(Luke 12: 27)
Some flowers are withered and some joys have died;
The garden reeks with an East Indian scent
From beds were gillyflowers stand weak and spent;
The white heat pales the skies from side to side;
But in still lakes and rivers, cool, content,
Like starry blooms on a new firmament,
White lilies float and regally abide.
In the vain cruel skies their hot rays shed;
The lily does not feel their brazen glare.
In vain the pallid clouds refuse to share
Their dews, the lily feels no thirst, no dread.
Unharmed she shifts her queenly face and head;
She drinks of living waters and keeps fair.
"July"
A Calendar of Sonnets
(published posthumously in 1886)
Helen Hunt Jackson
(1830-1885)
American writer, poet, and activist
on behalf of the American Indian tribes.
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