Yet, whate’er enjoyments dwell 95
  In the impenetrable cell
  Of the silent heart which Nature
  Furnishes to every creature;
  Whatsoe’er we feel and know
  Too sedate for outward show, 100
  Such a light of gladness breaks,
  Pretty Kitten! from thy freaks,—­
  Spreads with such a living grace
  O’er my little Dora’s [10] face;
  Yes, the sight so stirs and charms 105
  Thee, Baby, laughing in my arms,
  That almost I could repine
  That your transports are not mine,
  That I do not wholly fare
  Even as ye do, thoughtless pair! [11] 110
  And I will have my careless season
  Spite of melancholy reason, [12]
  Will walk through life in such a way
  That, when time brings on decay,
  Now and then I may possess 115
  Hours of perfect gladsomeness. [13]
—­Pleased by any random toy;
  By a kitten’s busy joy,
  Or an infant’s laughing eye
  Sharing in the ecstasy; 120
  I would fare like that or this,
  Find my wisdom in my bliss;
  Keep the sprightly soul awake,
  And have faculties to take,
  Even from things [14] by sorrow wrought, 125
  Matter for a jocund thought,
  Spite of care, and spite of grief,
  To gambol with Life’s falling Leaf.

* * * * *

VARIANTS ON THE TEXT

[Variant 1: 

  ...  Darling, ...  Ms.]

[Variant 2: 

  ... silent ...  Ms.]

[Variant 3: 

  Knows not what she would be at,
  Now on this side, now on that.  Ms.]

[Variant 4: 

  One for me, too, as is meet.  Ms.]

[Variant 5: 

1815.

  ... or ... 1807.]

[Variant 6: 

  ... busy ...  Ms.]

[Variant 7: 

1836,

  Hung with head towards the ground, 1807.]

[Variant 8: 

  ... and ...  Ms.]

[Variant 9: 

1836.

  ... glitters ... 1807.]

[Variant 10: 

1849.

  Laura’s [a] 1807]

[Variant 11:  Additional lines: 

  But I’ll take a hint from you,
  And to pleasure will be true, Ms.]

[Variant 12: 

  Be it songs of endless Spring
  Which the frolic Muses sing,
  Jest, and Mirth’s unruly brood
  Dancing to the Phrygian mood;
  Be it love, or be it wine,
  Myrtle wreath, or ivy twine,
  Or a garland made of both;
  Whether then Philosophy
  That would fill us full of glee
  Seeing that our breath we draw
  Under an unbending law,