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Alas! regardless of their doom,
- The little victims play;
No sense have they of ills to come,
- Nor care beyond to-day:
* * *
Yet, ah! why should they know their fate,
Since sorrow never comes too late,
- And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would destroy their Paradise.
No more;—where ignorance is bliss,
- 'Tis folly to be wise.
Nationality words link to articles with information on the nation's poetry or literature (for instance, Irish or France).