J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921.
By Mary Lamb (17641847)A Child
A
Its pretty tricks we try
For that or for a longer space—
Then tire, and lay it by.
All seasons could control;
That would have mock’d the sense of pain
Out of a grievéd soul.
Young climber-up of knees,
When I forget thy thousand ways
Then life and all shall cease.