The Happy Child

I saw this day sweet flowers grow thick—

But not one like the child did pick.

I heard the packhounds in green park—

But no dog like the child heard bark.

I heard this day bird after bird—

But not one like the child has heard.

A hundred butterflies saw I—

But not one like the child saw fly.

I saw the horses roll in grass—

But no horse like the child saw pass.

My world this day has lovely been—

But not like what the child has seen.