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 For the ill change that thou hast wrought in me, Who laugh no more nor lift my throat to sing! Ah, life, I would have been a pleasant thing To have about the house when I was grown If thou hadst left my little joys alone! I asked of thee no favor save this one: That thou wouldst leave me playing in the sun! And this thou didst deny, calling my name Insistently, until I rose and came. I saw the sun no more.—It were not well So long on these unpleasant thoughts to dwell, Need I arise to-morrow and renew through Again my hated tasks, but I am With all things save my thoughts and this one night, So that in truth I seem already quite Free and remote from thee,—I feel no haste