Page:Poems Follen.djvu/175

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TO GOOD RESOLUTIONS.
How like the morning flower ye are!
  Which lifts its diamond head,
  Exulting in the mead:
But the rude wind shall steal its gem,
  Shall break its tender stem,
      And leave it dead.

Frail pledges of the contrite heart,
  Wherefore so soon decay?
  O yet prolong your stay!
Until my soul shall boldly rise,
  And claim its native skies,
      Haste not away.