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THE DEFORMED CHILD.


When Summer days are long and warm, they set my little chair
Without the door, and in the sun they leave me sitting there;
Then many thoughts come to my mind, that others never know,
About myself, and what I feel, and what was long ago.

There are no less than six of us, and all of them are tall
And stout as any you may see, but I was always small:
The neighbours look at me and say, I grow not with the rest;
Then Father strokes my head and says, The least are sometimes best.

But hearing I was not like them, within my head one day
It came (strange thoughts that children have!) that I'd been changed away!