Teach your children poetry; it opens the mind, lends grace to

The words of Walter Scott fall with the resonance of a timeless command: “Teach your children poetry; it opens the mind, lends grace to wisdom, and makes the heroic virtues hereditary.” In these lines, Scott reveals the sacred power of verse, not as ornament for leisure, but as nourishment for the soul. For poetry is more than words; it is rhythm, memory, vision—it is the shaping of thought into beauty, and of beauty into strength. To teach it to children is not simply to train them in art, but to awaken their spirits to wisdom and virtue.

The ancients knew this truth well. In Greece, young men were taught the epics of Homer, not as mere stories, but as guides for living. The wrath of Achilles, the endurance of Odysseus, the grief of Priam—these were lessons in courage, honor, and humanity. Through poetry, the young inherited the heroic virtues of their ancestors, learning to endure hardship, to love their homeland, and to respect the gods. The Romans, too, placed Virgil’s Aeneid at the heart of education, believing that no youth could become a true citizen without first being shaped by its lines. Scott stands in this same tradition, urging parents and teachers to pass on the flame of verse so that courage and grace may live on through the generations.

What does it mean that poetry opens the mind? It means that verse teaches us to see beyond the surface of things, to connect what is hidden with what is seen. The poet does not describe only what is, but imagines what could be. A child taught poetry learns to think not in chains but in flight, to hear the harmony beneath the noise, to see patterns where others see only confusion. Such a mind, awakened, is prepared for wisdom, for it has already been trained to wander the vast landscapes of thought.

And what does it mean that poetry lends grace to wisdom? Wisdom without grace is harsh, like a stone unshaped. Grace without wisdom is fragile, like a flower that fades. But poetry tempers wisdom with beauty and adorns truth with rhythm. Consider the sayings of Solomon in the Proverbs: wisdom is offered in lines of poetry, not only to instruct but to delight. For knowledge that enters the ear with beauty rests longer in the heart. Thus, Scott declares, it is poetry that polishes wisdom until it gleams, making it both powerful and gentle.

As for heroic virtues made hereditary, this is not mere flattery of words. Through poetry, the deeds and values of one generation are planted in the next. Think of the Iliad, carried across centuries so that each new child might inherit the valor of Hector, the loyalty of Patroclus, the endurance of Odysseus. Or think of the Psalms, sung for millennia, instilling faith, hope, and steadfastness in countless hearts. Poetry preserves what is noble and offers it to the young, not as distant history, but as living inheritance. Scott, who himself wove epics of knights and valor, knew that poetry is the bridge that carries virtue across time.

The lesson is eternal: if you wish your children to be strong, do not feed only their bodies; feed their minds and souls with poetry. Give them not only the tools of labor, but the words of song and vision. Let them inherit not only wealth, but the heroic spirit of those who came before. In this way, you raise not only workers or rulers, but men and women of depth, of grace, and of courage.

Practical actions follow: read poetry to your children, not as schoolwork, but as song. Let them hear the cadences of Homer, Shakespeare, or the Psalms, and let them also create verses of their own. Speak in metaphors, encourage imagination, honor beauty in language. And for yourself, return to poetry when your heart grows heavy, for it has always been a fountain of strength. In doing so, you will pass on the flame that Walter Scott spoke of—the flame that opens the mind, adorns wisdom, and makes heroic virtues the inheritance of all who listen.