Children are one with the world.
Born comrade of bird, beast and bee
And unselfconscious as the tree...
Elate explorer of each sense
Without dismay, without pretense...
In your untrained transparent eyes
There is no conscience, no surprise --
Life's queer conundrums you accept.
Your strange Divinity still kept...
There were days, O tender elf
When you were poetry itself.
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