Of Innocency Poem by warner treuter

(perhaps kind of corny but I think contains a slip of truth)

One of the most desirable things in life
Is to be born a perpetual innocent,
Whence though mistakes be made, experiments tried,
As others do, there is this difference:
They will be seldom things, mere stepping stones
Towards a new, a deeper, fuller wide,
Carried towards love by a perpetual tide.
The danger in being born to such happiness
Is dealing with those born gifted with craftiness.