Bebop Nr.02

Childhood, sweet and sunny childhood, With its careless, thoughtless air, Like the verdant, tangled wildwood, Wants the training hand of care.

See it springing all around us -- Glad to know, and quick to learn; Asking questions that confound us; Teaching lessons in its turn.

Who loves not its joyous revel, Leaping lightly on the lawn, Up the knoll, along the level, Free and graceful as a fawn?

Let it revel; it is nature Giving to the little dears Strength of limb, and healthful features, For the toil of coming years.

He who checks a child with terror, Stops its play, and stills its song, Not alone commits an error, But a great and moral wrong.

Give it play, and never fear it -- Active life is no defect; Never, never break its spirit -- Curb it only to direct.

Would you dam the flowing river, Thinking it would cease to flow? Onward it must go forever -- Better teach it where to go.

Childhood is a fountain welling, Trace its channel in the sand, And its currents, spreading, swelling, Will revive the withered land.

Childhood is the vernal season; Trim and train the tender shoot; Love is to the coming reason, As the blossom to the fruit.

Tender twigs are bent and folded -- Art to nature beauty lends; Childhood easily is moulded; Manhood breaks, but seldom bends.

-Poem / David Bates