Impromptu
‘Where art thou wandering, little child?’
I said to one I met to—day.—
She pushed her bonnet up and smiled,
'I’m going upon the green to play:
Folks tell me that the May’s in flower,
That cowslip—peeps are fit to pull,
And I’ve got leave to spend an hour
To get this little basket full.'
—And thou’st got leave to spend an hour!
My heart repeated.—She was gone;
—And thou hast heard the thorn’s in flower,
And childhood’s bliss is urging on:
Ah, happy child! thou mak’st me sigh,
This once as happy heart of mine,
Would nature with the boon comply,
How gladly would I change for thine.
