Childhood by George William Russell
HOW I could see through and through you!
So unconscious, tender, kind,
More than ever was known to you
Of the pure ways of your mind.
We who long to rest from strife
Labour sternly as a duty;
But a magic in your life
Charms, unknowing of its beauty.
We are pools whose depths are told;
You are like a mystic fountain,
Issuing ever pure and cold
From the hollows of the mountain.
We are men by anguish taught
To distinguish false from true;
Higher wisdom we have not;
But a joy within guides you.