The Poetry Corner

The Voice Of The Ancient Bard

By William Blake

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.