A Man Young And Old: IV. The Death Of The Hare
I
have
pointed
out
the
yelling
pack,
The
hare
leap
to
the
wood,
And
when
I
pass
a
compliment
Rejoice
as
lover
should
At
the
drooping
of
an
eye,
At
the
mantling
of
the
blood.
Then
suddenly
my
heart
is
wrung
By
her
distracted
air
And
I
remember
wildness
lost
And
after,
swept
from
there,
Am
set
down
standing
in
the
wood
At
the
death
of
the
hare.