Would you think that I would wish for pain?
I am but a murmur, like that of a whale of the deep.
Watched I have, and felt your blows,  
you would think me a gift, that is yours alone to keep.

Grown you have, and this I've watched,
with pride, and sometimes shame of pain.
My heart is yours,  yet you can cut and gouge,
and you would wonder of the rain?

I have seen your wonders, your beauty, love.
Of my brothers I would present with pride.
Grown you have and indeed come of ages!
Would you have me sit silently, forlorn reside.

For I am not yours alone to keep, we must be earnt!
Would you think that I would wish for pain?
Take my hand once more, for I long to adore.
Be not children ignorant and vain.