The Roses and the Lilies

It's also said that the roses and lilies are a reference to the Song of Solomon:

I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. (From the King James Bible)

The Song of Solomon is a love poem between Solomon and Shulamite (whom it is said is Solomon's wife - Pharaoh's daughter).

In its simplest terms the poem is the courtship and consummation of love between a man and woman:

Sustain me with raisins,
refresh me with apples;
for I am sick with love.

However, it has been interpreted by Jewish scholars as an allegory of God's love for the children of Israel and by Christians as of the relationship of Christ with the Church. So to a Christian for example, Jesus is the Rose of Sharon and the Church is the Lilly.

The meaning of the Lily is 'You will find happiness' and it is also known as Our Lady's Tears as the tears Mary shed at the cross turned to lilies. Rose of Sharon refers to the plain of Sharon which was renowned for its beautiful flowers and used to describe the beauty of a young woman.

The poem is quite beautiful and worth reading for its various descriptions of love.

Thank you for all the great links in this oh-so-interesting thread...I'm following along with nothing useful to add ~*~

Vetch said:

The woman that was my spiritual teacher for some time claimed the troubadoures of old, the 'Minnesänger', said the Goddess' beauty was " wie die Lilie, die bei der Rose steht' - as the lily standing next to the rose.

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This reminds me of Parzival's seeing blood on the snow, which put him in a love trace--he was reminded of the beauty (red cheeks and lips and white skin) of his beloved.

(I also saw the "blood on the snow" thing in a Celtic legend book I was reading, but I forgot what story and character!!!)

And what you just said reminded me of fairy tales - wherein Snow White is the embodyment of woman; the milky white of her skin (youth, virgin) the ruby red lips (maidenhood), and the coal black hair (elder, or hag).

Red rose
White lilies
Black ... most anything else (coal, hatred, deepest darkest secrets; it's always pitch black under the bridge or through the door or down the hall or inside a cave ...)

*S*

The lily and the rose

THE nymph must lose her female friend,
If more admired than she—
But where will fierce contention end
If flow'rs can disagree?

Within the garden's peaceful scene
Appear'd two lovely foes,
Aspiring to the rank of queen—
The Lily and the Rose.

The Rose soon redden'd into rage,
And, swelling with disdain,
Appeal'd to many a poet's page
To prove her right to reign.

The Lily's height bespoke command—
A fair imperial flow'r;
She seem'd designed for Flora's hand,
The sceptre of her pow'r.

The civil bick'ring and debate
The goddess chanc'd to hear,
And flew to save, ere yet too late,
The pride of the parterre.—

Yours is, she said, the nobler hue,
And yours the statelier mien,
And, till a third surpasses you,
Let each be deem'd a queen.

Thus, sooth'd and reconcil'd, each seeks
The fairest British fair;
The seat of empire is her cheeks,
They reign united there.

William Cowper

kwaw said:

THE nymph must lose her female friend,
If more admired than she—
But where will fierce contention end
If flow'rs can disagree?

Within the garden's peaceful scene
Appear'd two lovely foes,
Aspiring to the rank of queen—
The Lily and the Rose.

The Rose soon redden'd into rage,
And, swelling with disdain,
Appeal'd to many a poet's page
To prove her right to reign.

The Lily's height bespoke command—
A fair imperial flow'r;
She seem'd designed for Flora's hand,
The sceptre of her pow'r.

The civil bick'ring and debate
The goddess chanc'd to hear,
And flew to save, ere yet too late,
The pride of the parterre.—

Yours is, she said, the nobler hue,
And yours the statelier mien,
And, till a third surpasses you,
Let each be deem'd a queen.

Thus, sooth'd and reconcil'd, each seeks
The fairest British fair;
The seat of empire is her cheeks,
They reign united there.

William Cowper

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This poem is lovely, Kwaw. Thank you!

This discussion has reminded me of a fairy tale I loved as a child...Snow White & Rose Red by the Grimms Bros. I need to dig that out and read it again.

Stormdancer said:

This poem is lovely, Kwaw. Thank you!

This discussion has reminded me of a fairy tale I loved as a child...Snow White & Rose Red by the Grimms Bros. I need to dig that out and read it again.

Click to expand...

As Christian mystic and poet Waite was well aware of the poetry of Cowper of course*; both their works also appeared in the same anthologies - such as the Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse (which also included poetry by GD or offshoot members such as W.B Yeats, Aleister Crowley, Charles Williams, Daniel Nicholson, etc). The anthology of poems In Praise of Gardens (1910) Compiled by Temple Scott, the Baker & Taylor Co. New York includes a poem by Cowper and several by Waite:


I know,
When at last the uttermost stillness steeps
Rose and lily, and laurel and lilac hedge.
The leaf does not stir on the willow, nor the leaf
where the ash-tree weeps,
The topmost twig of the yew and the cypress sleeps --
Like the box of the garden edge;
When great, divine, serene,
Flowing from vales beyond, and yet beyond
from the hills,
The sense magnetic of expectation fills
The palaces sacramental and high-roof'd halls
In the haunted place of incense, the wondrous place
Earth and its crown between,
With an unvoiced solemn promise of boundless grace,
As over the East's red ramparts, gateways and
cloudy walls,
And over a thousand changeful turrets and towers,
The morning glory of heaven blooms over and calls
The morning glories of earth in a thousand bowers.

From A Book of Mystery and Vision: excerpt of last stanza only, as it is fairly long.


Jam Noli Tardare

Undeterminted starry spaces,
Fill with joy your paths unknown!
But to watch the inward graces
Needs the inward sight alone;
Meanest places hold the spell
Of unfathomed miracle.

Hence when any hour invites you,
Whether seemly eve's repose,
Or, if better this delights you,
Night august or hush'd moon-close;
Best when best your charm is found
Pass into your garden ground.

There a sadden sense supernal
On the mind prepared shall fall,
As of haunted thought eternal
And great strangeness vesting all;
Grass and glebe and grave expound
Thin veil'd secrets latent round.

Not in bowers of roses solely
Shall the wondrous tale be told,
But plantations meek and lowly,
Beds of burning marigold;
Yet betwixt the lilies straight
Swings the visionary gate.

Not devoid of dream if blended
Are the windflowers and the docks,
For myself I love a splendid
Place of purple hollyhocks,
And my fancy knows the powers
Which lie rich in the sunflowers.

I could set you in my closes,
With the seeing sense endow'd,
Where the weed is as the rose is,
And the bird's lilt, low or loud,
Outward voices, clear and strong,
Worlds of rapture, worlds of song.

But for you a place of wonder
Your own garden ground must be;
'Twixt the trees that you stand under,
Seeing what is yours to see,
In my garden seen aright
All is scarlet and white light.

White the Word of Words reposes
Far beyond the lip's control,
Till the fitting time discloses,
In the garden of the soul,
Let us dreamers day by day
In the outward gardens pray.

House Fantastic

Stood the house where I was born
In a garden grown of old,
Where the heavy-scented flowers
Lay in wait to trap the hours,
Snare the days in books and bowers
And the moons in mazes fold.

From A Book of Mystery and Vision

kwaw
*note: there is also a drawing by Wilfred Pippet of Cowper and the Viper in the Guide To the Cowper Museum Olney, London: C J Farncombe, 1931 (Wilfred Pippet that produced with Trinick the Symbols of the Paths (32 'tarot trumps') for Waite's Fellowship of the Rosy Cross).