White girl, your flesh is liliesUnder a frozen moon,So still isThe rapture of your swoonOf whiteness, snow or lilies.
Virginal in revealment,Your bosom's wavering slope,Concealment,In fainting heliotrope,Of whitest white's revealment,
Is like a bed of lilies,A jealous-guarded row,Whose will isSimply chaste dreams: but oh,The alluring scent of lilies!
