Impromptu

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"Where art thou wandering, little child?"
  I said to one I met to-day.--
She pushed her bonnet up and smiled,
  "I'm going upon the green to play:
Folks tell me that the May's in flower,
  That cowslip-peeps are fit to pull,
And I've got leave to spend an hour
  To get this little basket full."

--And thou'st got leave to spend an hour!
  My heart repeated.--She was gone;
--And thou hast heard the thorn's in flower,
  And childhood's bliss is urging on:
Ah, happy child! thou mak'st me sigh,
  This once as happy heart of mine,
Would nature with the boon comply,
  How gladly would I change for thine.

© John Clare