The errors of youth!”
I yield, from the current
I tremblingly fly:
But with eyes looking back,
Repeat with a sigh,—
“If to fall be a sin,
What hast thou, Nature, meant?
The path made so easy,
So sweet the descent?
“How blest are the creatures,
The errors of youth!”
I yield, from the current
I tremblingly fly:
But with eyes looking back,
Repeat with a sigh,—
“If to fall be a sin,
What hast thou, Nature, meant?
The path made so easy,
So sweet the descent?
“How blest are the creatures,