The lily, with her fair white face
Pure in simplicity and grace
Looks wistfully at the sky
For by nature she's been taught
For one short hour her beauty's sought
And then to fade away to nought
To wither and to die.
So short the life of this lady fair
Whose perfume sweet bedecks the air
Happy, nestling in a valley here
Or showing in the lane
But her hour is soon to go
For when the sun sinks down below
Her trembling petals droop and so
Just a haunting scent remains.
Written in 1963
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
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