I like not lady-slippers,
Nor yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Nor yet the flaky roses,
Red, or white as snow;
I like the chaliced lilies,
The heavy Eastern lilies,
The gorgeous tiger-lilies,
That in our gardens grow.
For they are tall and slender;
Their mouths are dashed with carmine;
And when the wind sweeps by them,
On their emerald stalks
They bend so proud and graceful--
They are Circassian women,
The favorites of the Sultan,
Adown our garden walks!
And when the rain is falling,
I sit beside the window
And watch them glow and glisten,
How they burn and glow!
O, for the burning lilies,
The tender Eastern lilies,
The gorgeous tiger-lilies,
That in our garden grow!
Thomas Bailey Aldrich.