We frolic while 'tis May.
E'en from the tomb the voice of nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Men will believe anything at all provided they are under no obligation to believe it.
Thought would destroy their paradise.