The world is with me, and its many cares...

By Thomas Hood

The world is with me, and its many cares,
Its woes -- its wants -- the anxious hopes and fears
That wait on all terrestrial affairs --
The shades of former and of future years --
Foreboding fancies and prophetic tears,
Quelling a spirit that was once elate.
Heavens! what a wilderness the world appears,
Where youth, and mirth, and health are out of date;
But no -- a laugh of innocence and joy
Resounds, like music of the fairy race,
And, gladly turning from the world's annoy,
I gaze upon a little radiant face,
And bless, internally, the merry boy
Who makes a son-shine in a shady place.