Youth of delight, come hither, <br />And see the opening morn, <br />Image of truth new born. <br />Doubt is fled, & clouds of reason, <br />Dark disputes & artful teazing. <br />Folly is an endless maze, <br />Tangled roots perplex her ways. <br />How many have fallen there! <br />They stumble all night over bones of the dead, <br />And feel they know not what but care, <br />And wish to lead others, when they should be led.<br /><br />William Blake<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-voice-of-the-ancient-bard/
