Cole's Regret

Bed in Summer

In winter I get up at night

And dress by yellow candle-light

In summer, quite the other way,

I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see

The birds still hopping on the tree,

Or hear the the grown up people's feet

Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,

When all the sky is clear and blue,

And I should like so much to play,

To have to go to bed by day?

By, Robert Louis Stevenson