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!
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