The world is with me, and its many cares,
Its woes — its wants — the anxious hopes and fears
That wait on all terrestrial affairs —
The shades of former and of future years —
Foreboding fancies, and prophetic tears,
Quelling a spirit that was once elate:—
Heavens! what a wilderness the earth appears,
Where Youth, and Mirth, and Health are out of date!
But no — a laugh of innocence and joy
Resounds, like music of the fairy race,
And gladly turning from the world’s annoy
I gaze upon a little radiant face,
And bless, internally, the merry boy
Who “makes a son-shine in a shady-place.”