The World is poor, and Love is lonely, He sits alone, and has no toy; He sits beside a dying fire, And sucks his thumb for all his joy. What thoughts have we for song or beauty, In this old World, so sad and poor? We count and fear to spend our pence, And think no more of bird or flower. The World is poor, and Love is lonely, His dying fire no longer heats: He dreams of sugar, cakes and toys, And sucks his thumb for all his sweets. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: PENNIWIT, THE ARTIST by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SYMPATHETIC PORTRAIT OF A CHILD by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS SONNET TO A FRIEND WHO ASKED, HOW I FELT ... MY INFANT TO ME by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE LOVE-SICK FROG by MOTHER GOOSE NEW PRINCE, NEW POMP by ROBERT SOUTHWELL WINTER SLEEP by EDITH MATILDA THOMAS BENEDICITE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER HE MOURNS FOR THE CHANGE THAT HAS COME UPON HIM AND BELOVED by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |