'Where art thou wandering, little child?' <br />I said to one I met to-day.-- <br />She pushed her bonnet up and smiled, <br />'I'm going upon the green to play: <br />Folks tell me that the May's in flower, <br />That cowslip-peeps are fit to pull, <br />And I've got leave to spend an hour <br />To get this little basket full.' <br /> <br />--And thou'st got leave to spend an hour! <br />My heart repeated.--She was gone; <br />--And thou hast heard the thorn's in flower, <br />And childhood's bliss is urging on: <br />Ah, happy child! thou mak'st me sigh, <br />This once as happy heart of mine, <br />Would nature with the boon comply, <br />How gladly would I change for thine.<br /><br />John Clare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/impromptu-8/
