  I f This is all it will be like, I wish to Die;—I don't care how— While I am very, very young; As young as almost Now. They never felt what Sorrow was; Or never learned their Golden Rule; They say, These are your happiest days, —With School,—School,—School! When Saturday's all out of breath With all the week before in sight;— And Monday coming after you Spoils every Sunday night! And Nothing done but yesterdays; And Nothing coming but to-morrows! Don't cheer me up. Please let me be. —I have the Sorrows. |
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