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.