A little child

Little child, what ails thee

In a World so tiny?

Why are thy sweet lips cross

Thy pearly eyes so dim,

And why do tears now film

Thy lashes long?

Ah, thou hast soiled thy smock

Thy nice and pretty frock,

And undone thy pearl button!

What odds! I reason

Thy daddy does not mind

For he was once a child

And played in forests wild.

Men will be boys, boys men,

Girls mothers, mothers girls,

And life itself thus renews.