,youth of delight , come hither
,And see the opening morn
,image of truth new born
,Doubbt 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 stumbble all night over bones of the dead
,And fell they know not what but care
.And wish to lead others when they should be led


William Blake