The world is wide

     And lovely, dear,

And you are good,

     And strong, and true,

But I as yet

     Am young, untested;

Each thing to me

     Is something new.

          I am only a child, my dear.

 

Ill-matched, my words

     To what I know

And foolishly

     I often speak.

Flighty my whims

     And forgetful, I,

And gaeity 

     I wrongly seek.

          I am only a child, my dear.

 

The robe I wear 

     Is artlessness,

Simple and green,

     Of worthiness last;

Yet you would fain

     Love, keep, and teach.

Rebuke me gently,

     Pardon I ask.

          I am only a child, my dear.