Children, you are very little,
And your bones are very brittle,
If you 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 bewildering
Innocent and honest children.
Happy hearts and happy faces,
Happy plan 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 ate unduly,
They must never hope for glory....
Theirs is quite a different story.
Cruel children, crying babies
All grow up as geese and gabbies,
Hated as their age increases,
By their nephews and their nieces.
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