When I Was Ten and Seven

When I was ten and seven, yet younger I thought life was just a bed of roses For all I admired I had many thousand poses And never did I thirst nor hunger Nor did I lack enough to desire a thing But all I wished for, I had found before sunset: The singing skylark and the fish in the net The sweetness and songs the seasons bring Now that I’m ten and eight—much older, All of life’s fancy once at my disposal All of its pleasures were but a welcome carnival For now they say, there’s the hearth, go tinder!