第47章 THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD

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