ENVOY
When but a little boy, it seemedMy dearest rapture ranIn fancy ever, when I dreamedI was a man—a man!Now—sad perversity!—my themeOf rarest, purest joyIs when, in fancy blest, I dreamI am a little boy.
When but a little boy, it seemedMy dearest rapture ranIn fancy ever, when I dreamedI was a man—a man!Now—sad perversity!—my themeOf rarest, purest joyIs when, in fancy blest, I dreamI am a little boy.
When but a little boy, it seemedMy dearest rapture ranIn fancy ever, when I dreamedI was a man—a man!
When but a little boy, it seemed
My dearest rapture ran
In fancy ever, when I dreamed
I was a man—a man!
Now—sad perversity!—my themeOf rarest, purest joyIs when, in fancy blest, I dreamI am a little boy.
Now—sad perversity!—my theme
Of rarest, purest joy
Is when, in fancy blest, I dream
I am a little boy.