Classic Poem

Dear, farewell, a little while,
Easy parting with a smile;
Ev'ry object in thy way
Makes thee innocently gay;
All that thou can'st hear or see,
All is novelty to thee.
Thoughts of parents left behind
Vex not yet thine infant mind;
Why should then their hearts repine,
Mournful theirs, and merry thine?
'Tis the world, the seeming wise
Toil to make their children rise;
While the heir that reaps their gains
Thankless thinks not of their pains.
Sportive youth in haste to live
Heeds not ills that years may give:
Age in woe and wisdom grey
Vainly mourns for them that play.