Children Are Forever Dying.

Children, I note, are forever dying,

are always ever gradually dying.

Imperceptibly they just disappear,

fade, pass away, and all without a tear.

The infant I loved so dearly, just last year,

is not the babbling toddler playing here,

and, no doubt, he likewise will not long stay,

will to time be lost, spirited away.

Only death, real death, could arrest such change,

could, by kindest intervention, arrange

that I might always keep my little son,

have one dear frozen face to dote upon.

So, let him die, and die, and die again,

until, at last, he dies into a man

and is, as I am, ever much the same.