Letitia Elizabeth Landon
A word will fill the little heart
With pleasure and with pride;
It is a harsh, a cruel thing,
That such can be denied.
And yet how many weary hours
Those joyous creatures know;
How much of sorrow and restraint
They to their elders owe!
How much they suffer from our faults!
How much from our mistakes!
How often, too, mistaken zeal
An infant's misery makes!
We overrule and overteach,
We curb and we confine,
And put the heart to school too soon,
To learn our narrow line.
No: only taught by love to love,
Seems childhood's natural task;
Affection, gentleness, and hope,
Are all its brief years ask.
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Comments about this poem (Children by Letitia Elizabeth Landon )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
Mary Elizabeth Frye
(13 November, 1905 - 15 September 2004)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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