Epimenides

He went into the woods a laughing boy; Each flower was in his heart; the happy bird Flitting across the morning sun, or heard From wayside thicket, was to him a joy: The water springs that in their moist employ Leaped from the banks, with many an inward word Spoke to his soul, and every leaf that stirred Found notice from his quickly-glancing eye. There wondrous sleep fell on him: many a year His lids were closed: youth left him, and he woke A careful noter of men's ways: of clear And lofty spirit: sages, when he spoke, Forgot their systems; and the worldly-wise Shrunk from the gaze of truth with baffled eyes.