Ever again to breathe pure happiness, <br />So happy that we gave away our toy? <br />We smiled at nothings, needing no caress? <br />Have we not laughed too often since with Joy? <br />Have we not stolen too strange and sorrowful wrongs <br />For her hands' pardoning? The sun may cleanse, <br />And time, and starlight. Life will sing great songs, <br />And gods will show us pleasures more than men's. <br /> <br />Yet heaven looks smaller than the old doll's-home, <br />No nestling place is left in bluebell bloom, <br />And the wide arms of trees have lost their scope. <br />The former happiness is unreturning: <br />Boys' griefs are not so grievous as our yearning, <br />Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.<br /><br />Wilfred Owen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/happiness-11/
