Youth of delight! come hither And see the opening morn, Image of Truth new-born.
Doubt is fled, and clouds of reason, Dark disputes and artful teazing.
Folly is an endless maze;
Tangled roots perplex her ways;
How many have fallen there!
They stumble all night over bones of the dead;
And feel--they know not what but care;
And wish to lead others, when they should be led.
End
