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...THE SONG OF THE SMOKE by WILLIAM EDWARD BURGHARDT DU BOIS QUATRAIN: FATE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON ON LUCY, COUNTESS OF BEDFORD by BEN JONSON IMMORTALITY by GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL THE BURIED LIFE by MATTHEW ARNOLD |