A child of brighter than the morning's birth And lovelier than all smiles that may be smiled Save only of little children undefiled, Sweet, perfect, witless of their own dear worth,
Live rose of love, mute melody of mirth, Glad as a bird is when the woods are mild, Adorable as is nothing save a child, Hails with wide eyes and lips his life on earth,
His lovely life with all its heaven to be. And whoso reads the name inscribed or hears Feels his own heart a frozen well of tears, Child, for deep dread and fearful pity of thee
Whom God would not let rather die than see The incumbent horror of impending years. Man, that wast godlike being a child, and now, No less than kinglike, art no more in sooth
For all thy grace and lordliness of youth, The crown that bids men's branded foreheads bow Much more has branded and bowed down thy brow And gnawn upon it as with fire or tooth
Of steel or snake so sorely, that the truth Seems here to bear false witness. Is it thou, Child? and is all the summer of all thy spring This? are the smiles that drew men's kisses down
All faded and transfigured to the frown That grieves thy face? Art thou this weary thing? Then is no slave's load heavier than a crown And such a thrall no bondman as a king.
Misery, beyond all men's most miserable, Absolute, whole, defiant of defence, Inevitable, inexplacable, intense, More vast than heaven is high, more deep than hell,
Past cure or charm of solace or of spell, Possesses and pervades the spirit and sense Whereto the expanse of the earth pays tribute; whence Breeds evil only, and broods on fumes that swell
Rank from the blood of brother and mother and wife. ‘ Misery of miseries, all is misery,’ saith The heavy fair-faced hateful head, at strife With its own lusts that burn with feverous breath
Lips which the loathsome bitterness of life Leaves fearful of the bitterness of death.
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