Anemone, so well
	Named of the wind, to which thou art all free.

George MacDonald.    

	From the soft wing of vernal breezes shed,
	Anemones, auriculas, enriched
	With shining meal o’er all their velvet leaves.

Thomson.    

	Anemones and seas of gold,
	And new-blown lilies of the river,
	And those sweet flow’rets that unfold
	Their buds on Camadera’s quiver.

Moore.    

	Thy subtle charm is strangely given,
	My fancy will not let thee be—
	Then poise not thus ’twixt earth and heaven,
	O white anemone!

Elaine Goodale.    

	Within the woods,
	Whose young and half transparent leaves scarce cast
	A shade, gray circles of anemones
	Danced on their stalks.

Bryant.