A schoolboy loves the pure happiness of a summer morning: birds singing, a huntsman’s horn, a skylark singing with him. That joyful company dies when he must go to school. Under a weary teacher’s cruel eye, children spend the day in sighing and dismay. He sits drooping, anxious, unable to enjoy his book—learning feels like a dreary, withering shower. The poem then asks, How can a joy-born bird sing in a cage? A frightened child droops his tender wing and forgets his youthful spring. Addressing parents, Blake warns that if you nip buds and strip blossoms of joy, summer’s fruits can’t appear; winter’s blasts will destroy the mellowing year. The mood shifts from bright delight to deep sorrow, showing how crushing a child’s natural spirit ruins the whole cycle of growth.
The Schoolboy — Summary
I love to rise on a summer morn, When birds are singing on every tree; The distant huntsman winds his horn, And the skylark sings with me: Oh what sweet company!
But to go to school in a summer morn,-- Oh it drives all joy away! Under a cruel eye outworn, The little ones spend the day In sighing and dismay.
Ah then at times I drooping sit, And spend many an anxious hour; Nor in my book can I take delight, Nor sit in learning's bower, Worn through with the dreary shower.
How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing? How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring?
Oh father and mother, if buds are nipped, And blossoms blown away; And if the tender plants are stripped Of their joy in the springing day, By sorrow and care's dismay,--
How shall the summer arise in joy, Or the summer fruits appear? Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy, Or bless the mellowing year, When the blasts of winter appear?