David Bates (6 March 1809 – 25 January 1870 / Indian Hill / Ohio)
Reproach will seldom mend the young,
If they are left to need it;
The breath of love must stir the tongue,
If you would have them heed it.
How oft we see a child caressed
For little faults and failings,
Which should have been at first suppressed
To save the after railings!
If, when the heart would go astray,
You would the passion smother,
You must not tear the charm away,
But substitute another.
Thus it is pleasant to be led,
If he who leads will measure
The heart's affection by the head,
And make pursuit a pleasure.
Comments about this poem (Chiding by David Bates )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings