Children, you are very little, And your bones are very brittle; If you would grow great and stately, You must try to walk sedately. You must still be bright and quiet, And content with simple diet; And remain, through all bewild'ring, Innocent and honest children. Happy hearts and happy faces, Happy play in grassy places -- That was how in ancient ages, Children grew to kings and sages. But the unkind and the unruly, And the sort who eat unduly, They must never hope for glory -- Theirs is quite a different story! Cruel children, crying babies, All grow up as geese and gabies, Hated, as their age increases, By their nephews and their nieces. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN EARLIEST SPRING by WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS WORK by MARGARET STEELE ANDERSON THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): MEDEA BETRAYED by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS A MISUNDERSTANDING (CONNEMARA) by JANE BARLOW HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 16 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH WRITTEN ON RETURNING TO THE P. OF I. ON 10 JANUARY 1827 by EMILY JANE BRONTE |