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Won't you help support DayPoems? A ChildBy Mary Lamb1765-1847A CHILD 's a plaything for an hour; Its pretty tricks we try For that or for a longer space-- Then tire, and lay it by. But I knew one that to itself All seasons could control; That would have mock'd the sense of pain Out of a grieved soul. Thou straggler into loving arms, Young climber-up of knees, When I forget thy thousand ways Then life and all shall cease. DayPoems Poem No. 463 Comment on DayPoems? If you are like us, you have strong feelings about poetry, and about each poem you read. Let it all out! Comment on this poem, any poem, DayPoems, other poetry places or the art of poetry at DayPoems Feedback. Won't you help support DayPoems? Click here to learn more about how you can keep DayPoems on the Web . . . Copyright The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2005 by Timothy K. Bovee. All rights reserved. The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work. Any requests for publication in other venues must be negotiated separately with the authors. The editor of DayPoems will gladly assist in putting interested parties in contact with the authors. |
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