Childhood by George William Russell
HOW I could see through and through you! So unconscious, tender, kind, More than ever was known to you Of the pure ways of your mind.
We who long to rest from strife Labour sternly as a duty; But a magic in your life Charms, unknowing of its beauty.
We are pools whose depths are told; You are like a mystic fountain, Issuing ever pure and cold From the hollows of the mountain.
We are men by anguish taught To distinguish false from true; Higher wisdom we have not; But a joy within guides you.
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