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Poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton


* * *


This is the sort of book we like
(For you and I are very small),
With pictures stuck in anyhow,
And hardly any words at all.
. . .
You will not understand a word
Of all the words, including mine;
Never you trouble; you can see,
And all directness is divineЧ
Stand up and keep your childishness:
Read all the pedants' screeds and strictures;
But don't believe in anything
That can't be told in coloured pictures. 



Gilbert Keith Chesterton


Gilbert Keith Chesterton's other poems:
  1. The Englishman
  2. Alliterativism
  3. The Deluge
  4. The Great Minimum
  5. On the Disastrous Spread of Aestheticism in all Classes


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