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Delightful to the eyes of infancy,
in which happy time
The playfulness and thoughtlessness of life,
In the pursuit of sometimes sportive tricks,
Some bad, some harmless, but amusing;
At least in childhood then: the weakness of the mind
In infant time, insensible of what
Will often happen, in afterward repentance!
The wisdom of good child'ren, whose small
Ability they own, who're not inclined
To praise themselves;—exert their power to the end.
Their power soon does end;—
While man, grown up with the not many years
That human creatures have, who all complain
Of swift time's shortness, altho' when good
Are taken to another better world,
Where then they know no pain,
No sickness, no disaccommodation ever.
But everlasting happiness is spread
Over the place, where then we think no more
Of the great agonies we undergo
In former life, in the so much worse world,
Though not always, but very often bad,
Which it would not have been, if not made so
By the now artful work of its inhabitants,
Either to good, or sometimes to bad things:
But I have reason to suppose, 'tis most to bad.
When bad people are sent to that most miserable place,
