 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Chatterton
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IX.
Sir Roger.
Hast thou not seen a tree upon a hill,
Whose unlist branches reachen far to sight?
When furious tempests do the heaven fill,
It shaketh dire, in dole and much affright,
Whilst the poor lowly floweret, humbly dight,
Standeth unhurt, unquashèd by the storm.
Such is a picte of life; the man of might
Is tempest-chafed, his woe great as his form;
Thyself, a floweret of a small account,
Wouldst harder feel the wind, as thou didst higher mount.
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Chatterton
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