WHEN but a little boy, it seemed My dearest rapture ran In fancy ever, when I dreamed I was a man -- a man! Now -- sad perversity! -- my theme Of rarest, purest joy Is when, in fancy blest, I dream I am a little boy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FISH by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS BERTHA IN THE LANE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER by THOMAS MOORE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 57. TRUE WOMAN, HER LOVE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI SOMETIMES WITH ONE I LOVE by WALT WHITMAN |