the world is with me, and its many cares,

its woes — its wants — the anxious hopes and fears

that wait on all terrestrial affairs —

the shades of former and of future years —

foreboding fancies, and prophetic tears,

quelling a spirit that was once elate:—

heavens! what a wilderness the earth appears,

where youth, and mirth, and health are out of date!

but no — a laugh of innocence and joy

resounds, like music of the fairy race,

and gladly turning from the world’s annoy

i gaze upon a little radiant face,

and bless, internally, the merry boy

who “makes a son-shine in a shady-place.”