Assume the naïveté of infant age,
And in such prattle seem still more a sage;
The golden mean with tact unerring seized,
A courtly critic shone, a simple savage pleased.
The stoic of the woods his skill confessed,
As all the father answered in his breast;
To the sure mark the silver arrow sped,
The "man without a tear" a tear has shed;
And them hadst wept, hadst thou been there, to see
How true one sentiment must ever be,