The League Of Youth
There was never a hint, when I was a boy,
That the joy of the wilds might bring man joy;
Never a thought that a wild thing slain
Might wake in the slayer pain for pain.
We were savages all, with the hunter's thrill
In the lure of the chase and the lust of the kill;
And the bud on the bough, and the bird in the nest
Were beautiful things to be possessed.
But a worthier thing comes now to the earth,
Since pity in minds of the young has birth.
'Tis the glorious gift, that wisdom brings,
Of knowing and loving all lovely things:
Of loving and sharing with all the boon
Of the glad free things that may teach us soon
The gift of living, as glad and free,
As bird and blossom in Arcady.
'Oh, youth is heedless,' the elders say,
'Youth is callous and cruel in play,'
Say they, forgetting that all youth heeds
Comes down through lauding of elders' deeds.
But the law of savage - of fang and claw
Gives what was in the end to a worthier law;
And man, emerging from ways uncouth,
Sees visions anew in the League of Youth.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Related quotes
Youth is blind
Youth is power; youth is vigour;
Youth is initiative; youth is revolutionary;
Youth is dedication; youth is freedom;
Youth is love; youth is passion.
Yes, because youth is blind
Out of them elders make winds
01.01.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Age considers, youth ventures
Age considers, youth ventures
Age visualizes, youth dreams
Age makes theories, youth experiments
Age loves, youth longs
Age sees people, youth sees places
Age knows belongings, youth discovers them
Age pains to gain, youth gains to others' pain
Age has heart, youth has mind
Age is thoughtful, youth is tactful
Age ponders, youth wonders
Age recounts, youth counts
Age is experienced, youth is in experience
Age is cautious, youth dashes
Age floats, youth swims
Age lives, youth still making a living
Age is in touch with termination, youth with determination
Age is confident, youth is competent
Age adds years to living, youth adds life to living
Age is lost in past, youth is drowned in future
Age is grown, youth is crown
Ageless is youth, youthless is age
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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His Youth
Dying? I am not dying. Are you mad?
You think I need to ask for heavenly grace?
\I\ think \you\ are a fiend, who would be glad
To see me struggle in death's cold embrace.
'But, man you lie! for I am strong-in truth
Stronger than I have been in years; and soon
I shall feel young again as in my youth,
My glorious youth-life's one great priceless boon.
'O youth, youth, youth! O God, that golden time,
When proud and glad I laughed the hours away.
Why, there's no sacrifice (perhaps no crime)
I'd pause at, could it make me young to-day.
'But I'm not \old\! I grew-just ill, somehow;
Grew stiff of limb, and weak, and dim of sight.
It was but sickness. I am better now,
Oh, vastly better, ever since last night.
'And I could weep warm floods of happy tears
To think my strength is coming back at last,
For I have dreamed of such an hour for years,
As I lay thinking of my glorious past.
'You shake your head? Why, man, if you were sane
I'd strike you to my feet, I would, in truth.
How dare you tell me that my hopes are vain?
How dare you say I have outlived my youth?
''In heaven I may regain it?' Oh, be still!
I want no heaven but what my glad youth gave.
Its long, bright hours, its rapture and its thrill-
O youth, youth, youth! it is my \youth\ I crave.
'There is no heaven! There's nothing but a deep
And yawning grave from which I shrink in fear.
I am not sure of even rest or sleep;
Perhaps we lie and \think\, as I have here.
'Think, think, think, think, as we lie there and rot,
And hear the young above us laugh in glee.
How dare you say I'm dying! \I am not\.
I would curse God if such a thing could be.
'Why, see me stand! why, hear this strong, full breath-
Dare you repeat that silly, base untruth?'
A cry-a fall-the silence known as death
Hushed his wild words. Well, has he found his youth?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Youth Youth Youth
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Don't wanna spend my life saving up for things
Don't wanna have what a steady job brings
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Don't wanna stay at home not making any noise
I've always got to be out
I've always got to have a choice
I don't want security
Don't want responsibility
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
Never wanna be an adult
Always wanna be in revolt
Youth youth youth
Youth youth youth
I don't want no uniform
I don't want no book of rules
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth Of 1,000 Summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul. in my soul, in my soul
In my soul. in my soul. in my soul
And he looks so radiant
And he shines like the sun
And he looks so radiant
And he lights up the world
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Yeah, love it, yeah, love it
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
He's the king of the mountain
And the clear crystal fountain
He's the saint of the river
He's the ancient of days
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And he makes you go skipping
And he makes you go dancing
And he gets you in rhythm
And he moves you in song
He's the youth of a thousand summers
He's the youth of a thousand summers
Like a sweet bird of youth
Like a sweet bird of youth
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
In my soul, in my soul, in my soul
Oh, in my soul, in my soul, in my soul
And a sweet bird of youth
In my soul (repeat)
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem to Honor St. Valentine
If youth could age's wisdom ken,
& age could know youth's fire again
or age could Old Time's hands turn back
T'would then be youth with time to spend
& wisdom's strengths on which to depend.
This said, t'is never just white or black
For youth doth all discretion lack
& age tho' willing & desirous to play
To youth's vitality must passion give way
& such a conflict therein lies
for age is by youth most oft despised
& youth by age oft seen to whine,
“please, won't you be my valentine?”
poem by Hugh Cobb (12 February 2006)
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Unconditional Love
You could give me diamonds
You could give me pearls
Give me all the fast cars
In the world
But there is only one thing
And it's bigger than the sea
The only thing that matters
Is what you've given me
And I say
When I see the bright lights in your eyes
Feel like a bird that's just learned to fly
From now until the end of time
I'm glad you came into my life
My gift sent from above
Unconditional love
You take me as I am
Not who I'm dressed up to be
Looking at you tells me
The best things in life are free
You're the blessing that I treasure
With heart so true
No one ever touched me
The way that you do
And I say
When I see the bright lights in your eyes
Feel like a bird that's just learned to fly
From now until the end of time
I'm glad you came into my life
My gift sent from above
Unconditional love
With your innocence you opened up my heart
I knew that I would love you right from the very start
You turned my life around showed me a better way
Thoughts of you will always make me have a brighter day
When I'm by your side it helps to see me through
Can't express all the happiness when I'm with you
A gift from up above the one I'm dreaming of
I'll always cherish you my unconditional love
When I see the bright lights in your eyes
Feel like a bird that's just learned to fly
From now until the end of time
I'm glad you came into my life (I'm glad you came into my life)
My gift sent from above
Unconditional love
Gift sent from above
Unconditional love
Gift sent from above
Unconditional love
My unconditional love
song performed by by Victoria Beckham from Victoria Beckham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Good Memories Of What Was
I was not any use at Gaelic Football or Soccer though I played in Millstreet Townpark in the rain
And I played Soccer in Neily Duggan's Inch Field but these things I will never do again
With my young friends for us it was enjoyment but few things in life stay the same
The fire of youth in us was burning but it now is a flickering flame
We never thought about growing older the gift of youth is a great thing
Though of the past we have our memories and till death to them we will cling
The thought that we age with the Seasons does seldom enter the young mind
But the years leave us frailer and older eternal youth not for air breathing kind
But for as long as we have the gift of memory of our prime years good memories we retain
And often in our flights of fancy the past we do visit again
I still recall the joy and laughter as we chased the football up and down
On Summer evenings often wet and windy in the Townpark of old Millstreet Town
The years leave us all looking older and the clock on our lives ticking on
But the good memories of what was bring us comfort of the past to the forever gone.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Cry In Silence
Decided in my early youth pain is good,
while I am crying sitting here, watching
everything very precious to me falling
apart, I am glad in my deepest mind,
rejoice in the opportunity to feel pain
again, I am much too successful in
evading pain, it should catch up with
me from time to time, I follow my list
of things not to do faithfully, it is only
by chance I cry about serious pain, I
gave up ambition to resign myself to
be the dunce at work, a spurned fool,
it is great practising to be impervious
to pain about things we cannot change
- so why does it hurt so much, the only
thing left is to cry in silence…
[The only thing i have accomplished
is to hide all evidence of experience
brilliant to save face]
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Cobbers and Quids
Is youth not less pedantic, less absurd,
Less prone to value things of little worth
In failing to wax wrath about a word
That bears suspicion of a lowly birth?
All words have known their low and vulgar days
Known grime and poverty when they were young;
And many a proud and pompous modern phrase
Was once the plaything of a common tongue.
But as we grow respectable and staid
Mere sound, to middle-age, parades as sense.
Grey slaves of precedent, we grow afraid
Of youth and all its sane inconsequence.
Forgetting words are no god-given things,
With queer intolerance we would insist
In terms to which the mould of ages clings
On purity that never did exist.
Language is not the gift of any god;
Rude tribesmen made it when the race was young;
And as around the weary earth we plod
Still the illiterate enrich the tongue;
And still while careless youth goes gaily rid
Of age's caution, precedent and pence,
Better a cobber who'll lend half a quid
Than all the thrifty pedant's 'commonsense.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Celebrate Youth
Celebrate Youth
by H-Blockx
Album: No Excuses
I can see the older man
Looking at the younger man
I can see the younger man
Looking at the boy
Over there the older woman
Looking at the younger woman
I can see the younger woman
Looking at the girl
'Cause every man sees
In the younger man the hope
Every woman sees
In the younger girl the dream
Everybody lives
The pride and passion of the young
From the womb to the tomb
We will remember what it means
Refrain:
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Those who have it - young ones
Celebrate youth - celebrate
Give them sight
The future of the world's in the -celebrate
Hands of children - young ones
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Teach them right
Looking in a child's face
There's no pride and no disgrace
There's no struggle there's no fight
I can see the older man
And sometimes in the older man
I still see the young boy
Burning in his eye
And locked up here inside our spirit
Is the child that we are, hear it
Some of us will always fear it
And some will heed the cry
'Cause every man sees
In the younger man the hope
Every woman sees
In the younger girl the dream
Everybody lives
The pride and passion of the young
From the womb to the tomb
We will remember what it means
Refrain:
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Those who have it - young ones
Celebrate youth - celebrate
Give them sight
The future of the world's in the -celebrate
Hands of children - young ones
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Teach them right
Looking in a child's face
There's no pride and no disgrace
There's no struggle, there's no fight
Fight like a youth brigade
Tear down your baricades
I know fear's a blade
Time's up, another decade
Fight to be free indeed
Wrap up the things you need
Imaturity
Celebrates the youth in me
Looking in a child's eye
There's no hate and there's no lie
There's no black and there's no white
Refrain:
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Those who have it - young ones
Celebrate youth - celebrate
Give them sight
The future of the world's in the -celebrate
Hands of children - young ones
So celebrate youth - celebrate
Teach them right
Looking in a child's eye
There's no hate and there's no lie
There's no black and there's no white
song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Madrigal
Crabbed Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare:
Youth is full of sports,
Age's breath is short,
Youth is nimble, Age is lame:
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold,
Youth is wild, and Age is tame:-
Age, I do abhor thee;
Youth, I do adore thee;
O! my Love, my Love is young!
Age, I do defy thee-
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.
poem by William Shakespeare
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L'Ancien Regime
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king,
Our king all kings above?
A young girl brought him love;
And he dowered her with shame,
With a sort of infamous fame,
And then with lonely years
Of penance and bitter tears --
Love is scarcely the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A statesman brought him planned
Justice for all the land;
And he in recompense got
Fierce struggle with brigue and plot,
Then a fall from lofty place
Into exile and disgrace --
Justice is never the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A writer brought him truth;
And first he imprisoned the youth,
And then he bestowed a free pyre
That the works might have plenty of fire,
And also to cure the pain
Of the headache called thought in the brain --
Truth is a very bad thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
The people brought their sure
Loyalty fervid and pure;
And he gave them bountiful spoil
Of taxes and hunger and toil,
Ignorance, brutish plight,
And wholesale slaughter in fight --
Loyalty's quite the worst thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A courtier brought to his feet
Servility graceful and sweet,
With an ever ready smile
And an ever supple guile;
And he got in reward the place
Of the statesman in disgrace --
Servility's always a thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A soldier brought him war,
La gloire, la victoire,
Ravage and carnage and groans,
For the pious Te Deum tones;
And he got in return for himself
Rank and honors and pelf --
War is a very fine thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A harlot brought him her flesh,
Her lusts, and the manifold mesh
Of her wiles intervolved with caprice;
And he gave her his realm to fleece,
To corrupt, to ruin, and gave
Himself for her toy and her slave
Harlotry's just the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king,
Our king who fears to die?
A priest brought him a lie,
The blackness of hell uprolled
In heaven's shining gold;
And he got as guerdon for that
A see and a cardinal's hat --
A lie is an excellent thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Has any one yet a thing
For a gift to our lord the king?
The country gave him a tomb,
A magnificent sleeping-room;
And for this it obtained some rest,
Clear riddance of many a pest,
And a hope which it much enjoyed
That the throne would continue void --
A tomb is the very best thing
For a gift to our lord the king.
poem by James Thomson
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Yesterday's Child
Yesterday's child
I remember so well.
So young, full of hope
of good things they tell.
Yesterday's child
future of life.
Free from the pain
of discord and strife.
Yesterday's child
innocent gift
running free and wild,
mind adrift.
Yesterday's child
soft and pure.
If I wonder away
you're loves' great lure.
Yesterday's child
an adult today
neither soft nor pure
but gone a stray.
What has possessed our hearts so cruel?
Once a perfect child
is now a perfect fool.
poem by S.W. Clark
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Faith Liberates me
Faith is a Force;
It liberates me
From envy,
From jealousy,
From too much
Desire for fame,
For chair or high
Position and power,
Faith is a power;
It sets me free from
Lust and the prison
Of the flesh,
I am free or so think I
From all exceeding desires
For materialistic things.
I take whatever My Creator;
The Greatest Wisdom
That Created the World,
With satisfaction;
And satisfaction is happiness,
And a beautiful power;
I do not follow Satan's attitude
In wanting what Allah or God
Gave to the others,
And if I am deprived
Of few things,
I am bestowed with many
Other marvelous gifts,
Such as writing poetry;
It is a gift from The Generous;
From The most Creative.
Faith liberates us,
If we wish,
From silly things
That pull people down,
In fact faith is an
Unseen power
That surpasses all powers
Including military power,
How it can not be
As such
When it sets us free
From the killing need for
A human touch,
It liberates us
From youth constant
Need for love,
For care,
For tenderness,
Because faith makes
Human beings feel
Loved the twenty four
Hours of the day;
And that's the best way
Towards satisfaction.
When you feel Almighty
Surrounds you with His kindness,
When you are sure
He listens to you
He sees you
And protects you
From evil,
From wicked people
This leaves no space
For destructive earthly
Need or lust,
And don't tell me
That's not power.
Nov.9 / 2012
poem by Nadia Abduljabbar
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Two Things
Two things that come and go—
Happiness and Sadness
Two things that will never leave us—
Fame and Stigma
Two things that will not come back—
Prestige and Life
Two things that come on their own—
Youth and Age
Two things that follow us—
Virtue and Sin
Two things that cannot be contained—
Grief and Desire
Two things that cannot be avoided—
Hunger and Thirst
Two things that bring about a downfall—
Anger and Jealously
Two things that are common to all—
Birth and Death.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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The Pain Of Loving You (feat. Dolly Parton & Linda Ronstadt)
(Dolly Parton - Porter Wagoner)
Oh, the pain of loving you
Oh, the mis'ry I go through
Never knowing what to do
Oh, the pain of loving you.
You just can't stand to see me happy
Seems you hurt me all you can
Still I go on loving you
But I'll never understand.
Oh, the pain of loving you
Oh, the mis'ry I go through
Never knowing what to do
Oh, the pain of loving you.
--- Instrumental ---
To love and hate at the same time
The line between the two is fine
But too has bound me heart and soul
So strong that I can't let you go.
Oh, the pain of loving you
Oh, the mis'ry I go through
Never knowing what to do
Oh, the pain of loving you.
Oh, the pain of loving you...
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth Always Wins
Generational change
wins always
because the old and middle-aged
develop a clouded lens
and can' t see Now
because focused on Yesterday.
Is good advice for Youth Now
consist of lessons learned yesterday,
when yesterday no longer exists?
Can we tell the Young that yesterday
is relevant
when all yesterday is dead and gone?
How can we council that the old views
and yesterday make sense
when conditions have so changed
have been rent,
mangled beyond
recognition?
Young people
as they must
absorb much from us,
but their capacities
and needs are so much greater
than our meager philosophies present.
For the first time in history
young people are smarter
than their elders who
barely know how a computer works.
First time in history the young
are wiser than the septuagenarians.
Generations are additive
and while all youth stands upon
our shoulders
it also means they can see further
than we
planted on the ground below.
We see ground level and the past-
they see above the clouds to that future-ness;
and we complain
because we know in our Youth
we did
exactly
the same thing
against our parents
who always thought
they too,
knew best.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Voice of the Soul
In Youth, when through our veins runs fast
The bright red stream of life,
The Soul’s Voice is a trumpet-blast
That calls us to the strife.
The Spirit spurns its prison-bars,
And feels with force endued
To scale the ramparts of the stars
And storm Infinitude.
Youth passes; like a dungeon grows
The Spirit’s house of clay:
The voice that once in music rose
In murmurs dies away.
But in the day when sickness sore
Smites on the body’s walls,
The Soul’s Voice through the breach once more
Like to a trumpet calls.
Well shall it be with him who heeds
The mystic summons then!
His after-life with loving deeds
Shall blossom amongst men.
He shall have gifts—the gift that feels
The germ within the clod,
And hears the whirring of the wheels
That turn the mills of God!
The gift that sees with glance profound
The secret soul of things,
And in the silence hears the sound
Of vast and viewless wings!
The veil of Isis sevenfold
To him as gauze shall be,
Wherethrough, clear-eyed, he shall behold
The Ancient Mystery.
He shall do battle for the True,
Defend till death the Right,
With Shoes of Swiftness Wrong pursue,
With Sword of Sharpness smite.
And, dying, he shall haply hear,
Like golden trumpets blown
For joy, far voices sweet and clear—
Soul-voices like his own.
So welcomed may he join the Throng
Upon the Shining Shore,
As one who, after wandering long,
Returneth home once more!
poem by Victor James Daley
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In a Herber Green Asleep Whereas I Lay
In a herber green asleep whereas I lay,
The birds sang sweet in the middle of the day;
I dreamed fast of mirth and play:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
Methought I walked still to and fro,
And from her company I could not go;
But when I wak'd it was not so:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
Therefore my heart is surely pight
Of her alone to have a sight,
Which is my joy and heart's delight:
In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.
poem by Robert Wever
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