SIGHING I see yon little troop at play, <br />By sorrow yet untouch'd; unhurt by care; <br />While free and sportive they enjoy to-day, <br />'Content and careless of to-morrow's fare!' <br />O happy age! when hope's unclouded ray <br />Lights their green path, and prompts their simple mirth, <br />Ere yet they feel the thorns that lurking lay <br />To wound the wretched pilgrims of the earth, <br />Making them rue the hour that gave them birth, <br />And threw them on a world so full of pain, <br />Where prosperous folly treads on patient worth, <br />And, to deaf pride, misfortune pleads in vain! <br />Ah!--for their future fate how many fears <br />Oppress my heart--and fill mine eyes with tears!<br /><br />Charlotte Smith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxvii-4/
