Poem by Charles Lamb

Parental Recollections

A child's a plaything for an hour;
Its pretty tricks we try
For that or for a longer space;
Then tire, and lay it by.


But I knew one that to itself
All seasons could control;
That would have mocked the sense of pain
Out of a grievëd soul.


Thou straggler into loving arms,
Young climber up of knees,
When I forget thy thousand ways,
Then life and all shall cease. 

1. Lines Addressed from London, to Sara and S.T.C. at Bristol, in the Summer of 1796
2. Nursing
3. David
4. Love, Death, and Reputation
5. Beauty and the Beast

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