Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife.
No further seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode (There they alike in trembling hope repose), The bosom of his Father and his God.
Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms.
Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
There are certain scenes that would awe an atheist into belief, without the help of other argument.