Youthful Delusions

And where now, restless, wilt thou roam,
Thou young, uneaseful heart?
'Tis better far to stay at home,
So young a stripling as thou art.
And thinkest thou to go
Abroad to taste the sweets of life,
And miss its lurking woe?

Yea, doubtless thou wouldst find a bliss
Of honey sweet, awhile,
And many a love-born, smothered kiss,
Unknown to thee erstwhile.
And of a thousand hues
Would blossoms give the morning sweets
With honey-dabbled dews.

And, all-believing heart and young,
Thou wouldst unfold thy best
To faith, and laugh till thou wert stung
With poison in thy breast.
Then who would be thee nigh,
So far from home, to heal thy pain
And soothe thy bitter cry?

'Tis best, by far, to stay at home,
Dear, over-trusting heart;
None but a prodigal may roam
So far from love apart.
Doubt not, abide thy day,
And what is best for thee to have
In time will come thy way.