To Contemplation's sober eye. / Such is the race of Man.
Ah, tell them they are men!
Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.
Alas, regardless of their doom, the little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come nor care beyond today.