Skip to content
1849–1903

XXIX — To R. L. S.

William Ernest Henley

A child, Curious and innocent, Slips from his Nurse, and rejoicing Loses himself in the Fair.

Thro’ the jostle and din Wandering, he revels, Dreaming, desiring, possessing; Till, of a sudden

Tired and afraid, he beholds The sordid assemblage Just as it is; and he runs With a sob to his Nurse

( Lighting at last on him ), And in her motherly bosom Cries him to sleep. Thus thro’ the World,

Seeing and feeling and knowing, Goes Man: till at last, Tired of experience, he turns To the friendly and comforting breast

Of the old nurse, Death.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.