The Noble Nature By Ben Jonson

It is not growing like a tree,
In bulk, doth make better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald and tall.

A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May
Although it falls and dies that night
It was the plant and flower of light
In small proportions we just beauties see
And in short measures life may perfect be.

Doth : does
Log : lump of wood
Bald : hairless