THE YOUTHFUL MARINERS.
129
And each one lends his voice and breath,
To urge the tiny sail;
No sailor in a calm e'er watched
More anxious for a gale.
And though they are but paper boats,
Launched on a village brook;
How earnest is each beating heart!
How eager is each look!
Oh, happy age! that thus can find,
In trifles and in toys,
The pleasure of a new delight—
The freshness that enjoys!
Oh! why should life bring weariness,
And languor, and disdain?
Ah! would to God that I could be
An eager child again!
