Poem - It Is Not Growing Like A Tree
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fell a log at last, dry, bald and sere:
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauty see,
And in short measures life may perfect be.
Supporting anyone affected by the death of a baby and
promoting research to reduce the loss of babies’ lives
Charity registration number 299679