Sad Perversity
When but a little boy, it seemed
My dearest rapture ran
In fancy ever, when I dreamed
I was a man—a man!
Now—sad perversity!—my theme
Of rarest, purest joy
Is when, in fancy blest, I dream
I am a little boy.
My dearest rapture ran
In fancy ever, when I dreamed
I was a man—a man!
Now—sad perversity!—my theme
Of rarest, purest joy
Is when, in fancy blest, I dream
I am a little boy.
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