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