Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/31

 The monarch gazes all unseen, Tears burning his wan eyes; Tenderly his love doth lean To bless their Paradise, As through black bars that foul the day, And shut him out from joy: Hear the world-envied monarch say, "Perish, my bauble crown, my toy, All the science, all the sway, Power to mould the world my way, Persuade to beauty the dull clay! Take all; but leave, ah! leave my boy, Give me back my life, my joy! This poor rude peasant I would be, Yet dare not breathe the wish that he Were as I am, a king, of misery!"