POOR CHILD
Reading edition
On a mournful day When my heart was lonely, O’er and o’er my thought Conned but one thing only, Thinking how I lost Wand’ring in the wild-wood The companion self Of my careless childhood. How, poor child, it was I shall ne’er discover, But ’twas just when he Grew to be thy lover, With thine eyes of trust And thy mirth, whereunder All the world’s hope lay In thy heart of wonder. Now, beyond regrets And faint memories of thee. Saddest is, poor child, That I cannot love thee.