Related quotes: My prime of youth is...

My Prime of Youth Is But a Frost of Cares

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
And all my good is but vain hope of gain.
The day is gone and I yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

The spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung,
The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green,
My youth is gone, and yet I am but young,
I saw the world, and yet I was not seen,
My thread is cut, and yet it was not spun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

I sought my death and found it in my womb,
I look't for life and saw it was a shade,
I trode the earth and knew it was my tomb,
And now I die, and now I am but made.
The glass is full, and now the glass is run,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

poem by Chidiock Tichborne
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Related quotes

Elegy

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
And all my good is but vain hope of gain;
The day is past, and yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

My tale was heard and yet it was not told,
My fruit is fallen and yet my leaves are green,
My youth is spent and yet I am not old,
I saw the world and yet I was not seen;
My thread is cut and yet it is not spun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

I sought my death and found it in my womb,
I looked for life and saw it was a shade,
I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb,
And now I die, and now I was but made:
My glass is full, and now my glass is run,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

poem by Chidiock Tichborne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Eve Of His Execution

poem by Chidiock Tichborne
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Tychbornes Elegie, written with his owne hand in the Tower before his execution

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of paine,
My Crop of corne is but a field of tares,
And al my good is but vaine hope of gaine.
The day is past, and yet I saw no sunne,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

My tale was heard, and yet it was not told,
My fruite is falne, and yet my leaves are greene:
My youth is spent, and yet I am not old,
I saw the world, and yet I was not seene.
My thred is cut, and yet it is not spunne,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

I sought my death, and found it in my wombe,
I lookt for life, and saw it was a shade:
I trod the earth, and knew it was my Tombe,
And now I die, and now I was but made.
My glasse is full, and now my glasse is runne,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

poem by Chidiock Tichborne (1586)
Submitted by anonym
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Epitaph III - Parody Chidiock TICHBOURNE 1558_1586 Elegy and Thomas KYD

My little space no trace may leave behind,
My little base, - whose clock must soon unwind.
Why little haste? When discontented mind
reproves the race of shadow-shapes unsigned,
when worth and mirth too soon are undermined,
to earth returned, - with nobody to mind.

Our passing tresses, jesses just a while
play gesture-jester, jest at Fate’s swift trial
where sentence executionary the smile
aborts, deletes, erases: goodness, guile,
find no reprieve, with self to reconcile,
before Time tells of span unprotractile.

The sentence-execution’s always known
instinctively from crown to funny-bone.
If bridge between birth, death, we hold our own
then where lies sense, or there sense lies: once sown
the blossom sees one sunrise then is blown,
Time makes short shrift of deist cornerstone.

Today we dream we dream tomorrow’s plan,
which in and of itself mocks mortal man.
Time grates great pyramid, sand's partisan
defends ground zero status quo who’s span
prepares its own demise. Wise he who can
play for the day, unpaid life’s courtisan.

There’s no extension offered free, sublime,
no subtle lock to block the wheels of time.
We cognate are both cog and natal rhyme
as photo flash forgotten frames our grime, -
the ‘moving finger’ writes our pantomime
who’s string, who’s strung, when none can care a dime?

Our intranet is mirage-module base
to serve self image, through projection place
perspective partial playing to replace
the void within, avoiding loss of face.
Perhaps through love a moment’s state of grace
some lucky few may conjure for a space.

As flies within an amber double bind,
time’s trap some squander, others tap to find
through questions answerless with which mankind
plays games with frames of reference which, blind,
are vain reminders ‘I the undersigned’
is/was the proof Life knows no mastermind.

Today awake, tomorrow lost beneath
some sodden turf, with little left to show
for threescore years of sojourn, lacking teeth,
poor eyesight, addled brain, 'tis time to go.
'My fruit is fallen, yet'... wit weaves writ wreath,
glass full lies empty, quits, slips underneath.

'I looked for life and saw it' masquerade
of misinterpretations from the womb
until tomb's doom, where puppet man and maid
together dance suspended from chance gloom
that seldom clears the clouds of bias backed
from birth to final berth in charnel stacked.

An eyelid's twinkling, blink, our present past
becomes, numb, dumb, for coward and for brave,
most stillborn linger, finger truth aghast,
seek safety mining crass conventions' cave,
and then they die, their story stillborn too,
through mind pollution rue solutions true.

No matter what the rhyme-scheme that is used
'upon this chequer board of nights and days, '
no matter what's accepted, what's refused,
'life hither, thither, moves, and checks and slays.'
'the Moving Finger writes, and, having writ,
no tears can cancel out one word of it.'

Our Spring 'of youth is but a frost of cares, '
our fullness feast plays out, frays, 'dish of pain, '
'our crop of corn' time-worn, warns harvest dares'
glean gleams decay, stained by 'vain hope of gain.'
'Our day is past, ' hour one-way trip mirage,
stage tripped, page ripped, sage stripped in crypt collage.

© Jonathan Robin 23 January 2006 Parody Chidiock TICHBOURNE
..........................revised with final five verses added 2 April 2010 and verse 4 revised 15 November 2011
Elegy

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
And all my good is but vain hope of gain,
The day is past, and yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

My tale was heard and yet it was not told,
My fruit is fallen, and yet my leaves are green,
My youth is spent and yet I am not old,
I saw the world and yet I was not seen,
My thread is cut and yet it is not spun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

I sought my death and found it in my womb,
I looked for life and saw it was a shade,
I trod the earth and knew it was my tomb,
And now I die, and now I was but made,
My glass is full, and now my glass is run,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

This is the first printed version from Verses of Prayse and Joye 1586. This version differs slightly from the original text, in which the first line of the second verse reads The spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung, and had various other minor textual differences.

Chidiock TICHBOURNE 1558_1586 Written in the Tower of London before his execution I. i.59
..........................
Chidiochi Tychborne

Thy prime of youth is frozen with thy faults,
thy feast of joy is finisht with thy fall:
Thy crop of corn is tares availing naughts,
thy good God knows thy hope, thy hap and all.
Short were thy days, and shadowed was thy sun,
T' obscure thy light unluckily begun.

Time trieth truth, and truth hath treason tripped;
thy faith bare fruit as thou hadst faithless been:
Thy ill spent youth thine after years hath nipped;
and God that saw thee hath preserved our Queen.
Her thread still holds, thine perished though unspun,
And she shall live when traitors lives are done.

Thou soughtst thy death, and found it in desert,
thou look'dst for life, yet lewdly forc'd it fade:
Thou trodst the earth, and now on earth thou art,
As men may wish thou never hadst been made.
Thy glory and thy glass are timeless run;
And this, O Tychborne, hath thy treason done.

Thomas KYD 1558_1595

-
Time Consumed

What if imagination's wave-lengths show
man mirage mirror, wishful thinking's wings,
if 'truth' hid doubts, fear's fast consuming flow,
blot rot, not pearly gates devout scout sings?
Life's school would be in/of itself an end,
while pastures green no credency could lend.

If rite can't right 'wrong's' preying for a day
can pray repair man's puny pantomime,
if heresy today's tomorrow's lay
may hope scope draw from 'orthodox' if Time
makes crime of what, before, was held sincere,
and what held dear through time must disappear.

We birth on earth for threescore years and ten
then berth beneath the sods for auld lang syne,
Time mocks eternal second innings' yen
as much for saint as sinner, wineless whine.
When some await fair houri harem troop
may minds that stray or pray sign seraph scoop?

Though many paths are said to point the way
to paradise, or purgatory's pen,
though sects' decrees, dogma dissected, grey
from heaven's white to hell's black cannot ken.
Weak skeins knot vain, belie redemptive spin,
speak bane not reign of angels on a pin.

What peace of mind is gained when lost to life
if life itself proves hapless vale of tears,
when piece of mind resembles veil of strife,
whose knife's encountered on and off for years?
The answer may be neither here nor there,
but 'carpe diem! ' fête fate's day with flair!

J.R.4 April 2010 significantly revised 15 November 2011 with second and fourth verses added

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Upon a Fit of Sickness,Anno 1632 Aetatis Suae, 19

Twice ten years old not fully told
since nature gave me breath,
My race is run, my thread spun,
lo, here is fatal death.
All men must die, and so must I;
this cannot be revoked.
For Adam's sake this word God spake
when he so high provoked.
Yet live I shall, this life's but small,
in place of highest bliss,
Where I shall have all I can crave,
no life is like to this.
For what's this but care and strife
since first we came from womb?
Our strength doth waste, our time doth haste,
and then we go to th' tomb.
O bubble blast, how long can'st last?
that always art a breaking,
No sooner blown, but dead and gone,
ev'n as a word that's speaking.
O whilst I live this grace me give,
I doing good may be,
Then death's arrest I shall count best,
because it's Thy decree;
Bestow much cost there's nothing lost,
to make salvation sure,
O great's the gain, though got with pain,
comes by profession pure.
The race is run, the field is won,
the victory's mine I see;
Forever known, thou envious foe,
the foil belongs to thee.

poem by Anne Bradstreet
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Deep Water

I'll kiss that away
Both of them swam from a northern blue sky
Smile on their faces they entered their doom like they knew
If their world should end they won't care about that anyway
I jade the water and I burn the fire
Nuclear chemicals making their doom like you knew
If the world should end you won't care about that anyway
Maybe thats the way you live your life but I know
Life it don't always live that way
Jade
A shade of pain and then we die
Jade
A shade of pain and then we die
Jade
A shade of pain and then we die
But it's just the way
Maybe that's the way you live your life but I know
you live your life
Life you see it don't always live that way
Jade
A shade of pain and then we die
Jade
A shade of pain and then we die Oh why
Jade
A shade of pain and then we die
Maybe that's the way
Maybe that's the way but it don't always live that way
Now that I understand the beauty of what they've left to hand me down
When you need a place to live and no one understands you
And all you want to do
Is to cry out loud
But you don't know how
No way no one
No one understands
The hand that strikes
When just a touch of love is all the problem needed
And when you hurt someone so much that still they die loving you
And all you want to do
Is to cry out loud
But you don't know how
Jade
Jade
A shade of pain and then we die
Jade
A shade of pain and then we die
Jade
But you don't know how
'Til you try somehow
Jade
Like you don't know how
Jade
But you try somehow
Jade and then we die
We will find a way
Letting the sun go down
Maybe we'll find a way
Holding the sun
We will find a way
Letting our life go by
I tell you we'll find a way
Holding the sun

song performed by by Seal from Debut
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Live

Clear out your mind
Look to your past and see what you can find
Stole soul afraid
Of the prophets perfect picture falls away
Is this the life that we choose to live
Or is this the life that has been giving
Now is the time to see what my life should be
What is mine!?
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
It's a timeless rage
For many people praying to be saved
Truth is so strong
It needs lights to guide it so it can carry on
I've seen blood on my hands
Am I dead or is this where it begins
I feel the shame
For my friend who put a bullet in his brain!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
I've got
You've got
We've got
Something to die for
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now!
We live in!
We live in!
We live in Shangri La now
We live in!
We live in!

song performed by by Zug Izland
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life I Live

The life I live
Is so real
The life I live
Seems like a big deal

The life I live
Is full of pain
Form the cradle
To the grave

The life I live
Is full of sorrow
And will always be seeking
A better tomorrow

The life I live
Waiting for to be great
Will get better
On a latter date

The life I have
Was given to me
The life I live
Is as true as can be

poem by Destiny Avaritia
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The Book

Eternal God! Maker of all
That have lived here since the man's fall:
The Rock of Ages! in whose shade
They live unseen, when here they fade;

Thou knew'st this paper when it was
Mere seed, and after that but grass;
Before 'twas dressed or spun, and when
Made linen, who did wear it then:
What were their lives, their thoughts, and deeds,
Whether good corn or fruitless weeds.

Thou knew'st this tree when a green shade
Covered it, since a cover made,
And where it flourished, grew, and spread,
As if it never should be dead.

Thou knew'st this harmless beast when he
Did live and feed by Thy decree
On each green thing; then slept - well fed -
Clothed with this skin which now lies spread
A covering o'er this aged book;
Which makes me wisely weep, and look
On my own dust; mere dust it is,
But not so dry and clean as this.
Thou knew'st and saw'st them all, and though
Now scattered thus, dost know them so.

O knowing, glorious Spirit! when
Thou shalt restore trees, beasts, and men,
When Thou shalt make all new again,
Destroying only death and pain,
Give him amongst Thy works a place
Who in them loved and sought Thy face!

poem by Henry Vaughan
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My Life

I am not dead but still I miss
My loved ones, my family; the life I had
As I am dead in death amiss
Without my life, sorrowful and sad
My life is not the greatest nor a success
But a life it is and is what's truly mine
I pray to God for God to bless
My life, my friends, my family blood line
What I would do to live forever
And in youth with my life's joy
Live with my family, never to sever
From them as an eternal boy
My grandparents, my parents, my sisters, my brother
Always together, always with each other
My life, a life, worth living…..

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Don’t Take My Life, My Dear Mother!

Don’t take my life,
My dear mother!
For heaven’s sake,
Please let me live!

Don’t take my life;
Give me a chance;
I’ve life like you;
I want to live.

Don’t take my life;
God’s love made me;
God talks to me,
And calls my name!

Don’t take my life;
The womb’s my home;
God feeds me well
And helps me grow.

Don’t take my life;
I yearn to live,
And see the world
That God has made.

Don’t take my life;
Do charity;
I’ll repay back
Your act of love.

Don’t take my life,
I want some love
From my parents;
So, spare me please!

Don’t take my life;
Do spare my frame;
The clay is baked;
It’s time for birth!

Don’t take my life
God has allowed;
I want to see
His lovely world.

Don’t take my life;
I’ll pay you well,
When I grow big,
And you turn old!

Don’t take my life,
My dear mother;
God will bless you
And too, father!

Don’t take my life,
Dear dad and mum;
Don’t turn the womb
Into my tomb!

Don’t take my life,
For God’s sake please;
My dear parents,
‘LET ME BE BORN! ’

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Glass-ceiling

It's shivering on the edge
Of a razor, or on the verge
Of a sky-kissing cliff,
Hanging to fall inevitably...
And the glass-ceiling overhead
May break anytime;
We live thus with all
The urges of flesh and blood.
An invisible thread between
Life and death is only a link
To allow us to survive;
A controlling power
Drives us to dance,
With the rhythm of Time.
The flickering lights of the
Burning hopes let us live;
Under the glass-ceiling
A complete, fragile negation-
Still a firm belief works
To fight a mock fight to
Win the dilemma of life,
To make us live vibrantly!
With the glass-ceiling
Overhead...

poem by Nilakshi Das
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You Only Live Once

You only live once.

Like a lasting flower.

Live life to the fullest by every hour.

Live it like no tomorrow.

From the mornings ending with one of your best nights.

Live your dreams and fly by taking flights.

Imagine and draw out creativity.

Of the skill that you chase for your goal as your ability.

Life is so pure with beauty as you travel to a journey.

The money, the family, and being happy is reality.

Live your life and make it a true story.

Be a leader not a follower.

Be a good father and mother.

In this world people die and in this world some people lie.

And in this world people cry.

Babies that are born in this world.

Are born to be something not nothing.

Women with independence I salute.

We are young like a sweet fruit.

Its sweeter but gets bitter.

And we live our life as we young but we get older.

Life moves fast but we mature slower.

Dont't let your life go to waste.

Because you only live once and living a better life is the case.

poem by Anteaus Berryhill
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Do What I Like

Key:- r:- ray
A:- anita
R: come let me enter in your brain
You know how it goes no pain, no gain
Im a rough young brother, I care about another
I thank my life to my dad and my mother
Searching like a hunter, always into something
You wanna be down? first stop fronting
Please dont speak, pass me the mic
Cause no matter what you say Ill do what I like
A: this is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
This is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
cause I do, do what I like
This is my life and Im satisfied
And I do, do what I like
Its the way I live my life!
R: rumours and lies start from the mouth
People hear little things and they start to shout
You see me on t.v. or a magazine cover
Lose our bonus, move under cover
Living that kind of effect, Im in demanded
I do my thing when I on demanded
You dont even know how I live my life
Dont point your finger cause Ill do what I like
A: this is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
This is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
cause I do, do what I like
This is my life and Im satisfied
And I do, do what I like
Its the way I live my life!
A: do what you like
Do what you like
Do what you like
Do do what you like
R: yeah!
Dont give a damn
Dont give a damn
A: do what you like
R: dont give a damn
Dont give a damn
A: do what you like
R: come on!
A: this is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
This is the way I live my life
And theres no need to criticize
cause I do, do what I like
This is my life and Im satisfied
And I do, do what I like
Its the way I live my life!
A: do what you like
Do what you like
Do what you like
This is my life! oh!

song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life, Where Is life!

Life is always light
for some
Life is always fight
for some,
Life is full of light
For some
Life is without light for some,
Life is search for light,

Some live a long life,
Some live for a short,
Some live for a purpose,
some live for themselves,
Some live for others,

Some are good thinkers,
Some are fantastic,
Some live in fantasies,
Some are short sighted,
And live a life, full of fight,
Some or long sighted,
And always stumble!

Some are great by birth,
Some are great by thoughts,
Some are great by deeds,
some are really great,
and they have the vission,
They have the strength and will,
they look as a lake still,
Yet they are full of life,
They always smile
And keep worries way a mile!

some has ways open, some has to open them on own,
Some Wander where life takes,
Some take life where they want,
Some are really great
Those realise, if not there is either birth or death,
Who is there to say what is life?

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Live Life on Hope

Strange is our life to live
No idea where it leads
But still live on hope
Where is it going to take?

Meet new people in life
May be just for once
But still live on hope
Will we meet them again?

We make new plans for life
No idea how to manage
But still live on hope
When is it going to attain?

Great effort we make family
Bring up kids to best
But still live on hope
What would be the result?

Children fly when big and built
Again we remain alone
But still live on hope
When will they be back?

All of us live on hope
And it should never end
Until we leave this earth
Always hope for the best...

poem by Sreekala Sukumaran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To H.a.b. On My Forty-seventh Birthday

WHEN one is forty years and seven,
Is seven and forty sad years old,
He looks not onward for his Heaven,
The future is too blank and cold,
Its pale flowers smell of graveyard mould;
He looks back to his lifeful past;
If age is silver, youth is gold:-
Could youth but last, could youth but last!

He turns back toward his youthful past
A-throb with life and love and hope,
Whose long-dead joys in memory last,
Whose shining days had ample scope;
He turns and lingers on the slope
Whose dusk leads down to sightless death:-
The sun once crowned that darkening cope,
And song once thrilled this weary breath.

Ali, he plods wearily to death,
Adown the gloaming into night,
But other lives breathe joyous breath
In morning's boundless golden light;
Their feet are swift, their eyes are bright,
Their hearts beat rhythms of hope and love,
Their being is a pure delight
In earth below and heaven above.

And you have hope and joy and love,
And you have youth's abounding life,
Whose crystal currents flow above
The stones and sands of care and strife.
May all your years with joys be rifc,
May you grow calmly to your prime,
A maiden sweet, a cherished wife,
A happy mother in due time.

All good you wish me, past my prime,
I wish with better hope to you,
And richer blessings than old Time
And Fate or Fortune found my due:
For you are kind and good and true,
And so when you are forty-seven
May spouse and children in your view
Make Home the happiest life-long Heaven.

poem by James Thomson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Live Your Life Be Free

Live your life be free
Live your life be free
Open up your mind and you will see
You should be with me baby
You should be with me
I see you walking with her
I see you all around
But you don't seem very happy now
You seem very down
I know you feel an obligation
To her emotional state of mind
This is the time in your life baby
When you should be having a good time
And if you want me I'll be there
To run my fingers through your hair
And if you need me its alright
Come on over baby, and see me tonight
You got to
Live your life be free
Live your life be free
Open your mind and you will see
You should be with me baby
You should be with me
You know that I'll be waiting
You know my heart is true
I will be your everything
And give everything to you
So if you want me baby I know
Don't have to knock knock down my doors
Her heart was meant to be broken that day
You got a lot of love to live
So why dont you
Live your life be free
Live your life be free
Open your mind and you will see
You should be with me baby
You should be with me
You should be with me baby
You should be with me
Live your life be free baby
Live your life be free baby
Live your life be free baby
Live your life be free baby
Live your life be free baby
Live your life be free baby
Live your life be free baby
Live your life be free baby
And when you free your mind
You will leave your past behind
Live your life be free
Live your life be free
Open your mind and you will see
You should be with me baby
You should be with me
Live your life be free
Live your life be free
Open your mind and you will see
You should be with me baby
You should be with me

song performed by by Belinda Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fate (Death Poem)

Before I was born my fate was a thread,
To be spun and measured and cut at a time,
Determined by Fates inflicted on men.

Why is an impossible burden allotted to me?
And why the decision that since
Pandora was created,
My fate ever since,
Is determined,
By spinning of thread,
In the sandstorm of life,
By immortals who meddle.
On this earth, when I really prefer,
To be left on my own to live life in despair?

With my daily bread and a glass of wine,
And the love of the woman I love by my side,
Who sleeps in my arms as I dream or my fate.

poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Be Very Patient

Be very patient,
The potter's clay;
Be very wise,
The writer's pen;
Be very useful,
Of the muse of life with a living hope;
Let your yes be yes and your no be no.
Life is like the patience of Iyyob,
So abstain from fleshly lust;
Like the days of our visitations on this earth.

Sarah obeyed Abraham,
Like the sea and the seashore;
So established are the two witnesses.
Oh womb, womb, womb!
Oh bomb, bomb, bpomb! !
Oh tomb, tomb, tomb! ! !
Be very patient in this life.
Womb. bomb, tomb;
The womb is opened.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The earth is defiled.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The time of trouble on this earth with our muses.

Our bombs will shake the heavens,
And our sins will led us to our tombs;
As it is written in the Book Of Life like,
A child born today from the womb.
We came out of the womb and,
Many of us will be killed by the bombs! !
Which will finally send us into the tombs.
Read about the facts,
Learn about the truth,
Our days of darkness from the womb!

We came out of the womb and,
Are destroying the world with our bombs;
Soon, we will be buried in the tombs!
Womb, bomb, tomb;
Be very patient on this earth without hatred.
Lets be each others keeper,
Lets learn for the truth of all things;
Our days on this earth is still very short.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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