In active and useful employ
His youth gayly glided away
While rational pleasures and joy
Attended his steps every day.
And now let us see him grown up;
Still cheerfulness dwelt in his mind,
Contentment yet sweeten’d his cup,
For still he was active and kind.
His garden well loaded with store,
His cot by the side of the green,
Where woodbines crept over the door,
And jessamines peep’d in between.
These fill’d him with honest delight,
And rewarded him well for his toil:
He went to bed cheerful at night,
And woke in the morn with a smile.
WE ARE SEVEN.
BY WM. WORDSWORTH.
A simple child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb.
What should it know of death!