Know you what it is to be a child?
It is to be something very different from the man of to-day.
It is to have a spirit yet streaming from the waters of baptism;
It is to believe in love, to believe in loveliness, to believe in belief;
It is to be so little that the elves can reach to whisper in your ear;
It is to turn pumpkins into coaches, and mice into horses,
Lowness into loftiness, and nothing into everything,
For each child has its fairy godmother in its own soul;
It is to live in a nutshell and to count yourself the king of infinite space;
To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a Heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour;
It is to know not as yet that you are under sentence of life,
Nor petition that it be commuted into death.
— Francis Thompson – “Shelley” – The Works of Francis Thompson, vol. 3, pp. 7–8 (1913) [includes a part from Auguries of Innocence by William Blake]