Poems (Stuart)/The Harebell
For works with similar titles, see The Harebell.
THE HAREBELL.
You give no portent of impermanenceThough before sun goes you are long gone hence,Your bright, inherited crownWithered and fallen down,
It seems that your blue immobilityHas been for ever, and must for ever be.Man seems the unstable thing,Fevered and hurrying.
So free of joy, so prodigal of tears,Yet he can hold his fevers seventy years,Out-wear sun, rain and frost,By which you are soon lost.