A child's innocence beats the eye
And claims (for all its age) a battled cry,
'Give me this moment! Now!
I most empty cannot, will not, shall not lie!
Don't hold me to your truths!
I most free of sadness shall not sigh,
Nor told of no uneven
Decry what is!
I, least mortal of you all, most know how to live!'
So then, child, give me your kiss,
Put your spark in my bright eyes,
Remove the curse of age
And promise me then this:
That when at last I die and you as old as I am now
Feel something missed,
You too shall wrap your arms round childish bliss.