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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=339886" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Thick-headed Thoughts</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">No. I<br> <br>I've something of the bull-dog in my breed,<br>The spaniel is developed somewhat less ;<br>While life is in me I can fight and bleed,<br>But never the chastising hand caress.<br>You say the stroke was well intended. 'True.'<br>You mention 'It was meant to do me good.'<br>'That may be.' 'You deserve it.' 'Granted, too.'<br>'Then take it kindly.' 'No-I never could.'<br> <br>. . . . . . .<br> <br>How many a resolution to amend<br>Is made and broken, as the years run round !<br>And how can others on your word depend,<br>When faithless to ourselves we're often found ?<br>I've often swore—'Henceforward I'll reform,<br>And bid my vices, follies, all take wing.'<br>To keep my promise, 'mid temptation's storm,<br>I've always found was quite another thing.<br> <br>. . . . . . .<br> <br>I saw a donkey going down the road<br>The other day ; a boy was on his back,<br>Who on the long-eared quadruped bestowed,<br>With a stout cudgel, many a hearty thwack ;<br>But lazier and lazier grew the beast,<br>Until he dwindled to a step so slow<br>That I felt sure 'twould take him, at the least,<br>Full half an hour one blessed mile to go.<br> <br>Soliloquising on this state of things,<br>'That moke's like me,' I muttered, with a sigh ;<br>'He might go faster if he'd got some wings,<br>But Nature's made him better off than I ;<br>For though I've all his obstinacy—aye ! all—<br>His sullen spirit, and his dogged ways,<br>I've not one particle, however small,<br>Of that praiseworthy patience he displays.'<br> <br>No. II<br> <br>A MAN is independent of the world,<br>And little recks of strife or angry brawl,<br>If 'gainst a host his banner unfurled,<br>Be his heart stout, it matters not at all.<br>With woman 'tis not so ; for she seems hurled<br>From hand to hand, as is a tennis ball.<br>How queer that such a difference should be<br>Between a human he and human she.<br> <br>No. III<br> <br>'TIS a wicked world we live in ;<br>Wrong in reason, wrong in rhyme ;<br>But no matter : we'll not give in<br>While we still can come to time.<br> <br>Strength's a shadow ; Hope is madness ;<br>Love, delusion ; Friendship, sham ;<br>Pleasure fades away to sadness,<br>None of these are worth a d———n.<br> <br>There is naught on earth to please us ;<br>All things at the crisis fail.<br>Friends desert us, bailiffs tease us—<br>(To such foes we give leg-bail).<br> <br>But a stout heart still maintaining,<br>Quells the ills we all must meet,<br>And a spirit fear disdaining<br>Lays our troubles at our feet.<br> <br>So we'll ne'er surrender tamely<br>To the ills that throng us fast.<br>If we must die, let's die gamely ;<br>Luck may take a turn at last.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Adam+Lindsay+Gordon">Adam Lindsay Gordon</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=339886" data-title="Thick-headed Thoughts de Adam Lindsay Gordon" data-description="No. I
 
I've something of the bull-dog in my breed,
The spaniel is developed somewhat less ;
While life is in me I can fight and bleed,
But never the chastising hand caress.
You say the stroke was well intended. 'True.'
You mention 'It was meant t..."></div>
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