Michael Scott’s Wooing
ROSE-SHEATHED beside the rosebud tongue
Lurks the young adder's tooth;
Milk-mild from new-born hemlock-bluth
The earliest drops are wrung:
And sweet the flower of his first youth
When Michael Scott was young.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Related quotes
Sonnet: On Youth
An unblossomed flower-like, I stay;
In youth, to spend each sleepless night till Dawn;
Opens my petals, heralding a day;
Perfuming air with dew-drops, I cry by morn.
How long I add on to the beauteous land?
Or will I turn a drooping flower soon?
Will I be plucked off by an unknown band?
Or stay to form the fruit with seed by Moon?
Or will I be a fallen flower young?
Or will my lover bee visit my home?
Or will the scorching sun, make me unsung?
Or will I be prey to some ghastly worm?
Each youth is like the unblossomed flower;
If blessed by God, It will be in His bower.
poem by John Celes
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The Violet And The Rose
The violet in the wood, that's sweet to-day,
Is longer sweet than roses of red June;
Set me sweet violets along my way,
And bid the red rose flower, but not too soon.
Ah violet, ah rose, why not the two?
Why bloom not all fair flowers the whole year through?
Why not the two, young violet, ripe rose?
Why dies one sweetness when another blows?
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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When I Was Young I Cried
When I was young I cried when I was sad, when I was young I cried when I was happy, when I was young I cried when I wanted something, when I was young I cried when I was lonely, when I was young I cried when I had to say goodbye, when I was young I cried when my feelings were hurt, when I was young I cried when I wasn't accepted, when I was young I cried when I was mocked, when I was young I cried for attention, when I was young I cried when I was scared, when I was young I cried when I hurt others, when I was young I cried when I felt physical pain, when I was young I cried when I was jealous, when I was young I cried when I lost someone or when I was lost somewhere, when I was young I cried when I didn't know, and now as an adult I cry because I understand.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Young, Dumb & Ugly
We're dangerous dudes, we got bad attitudes
Most of our brain cells are gone
We were born to be bad, you better not make us mad
Or we just might toilet paper your lawn
We got a reputation 'round these parts
We only leave a ten percent tip
Sometimes we don't return our shoping carts
Stay out of our way and don't you give us no lip
'cause we're young... dumb and ugly
That's what we are
We're so young... young, dumb and ugly
We wear black leather in the hottest weather
You can't imagine the smell
We got three-day stubble, our names spell trouble
T-r-u-b-e-l
Reaisin' hell, bendin' the rules just a little
We're livin' only for thrills
We squeeze our tooothpaste tubes from the middle
And wait until the last minute to pay our telephone bills
'cause we're young... dumb and ugly
You better believe it
We're young... young, dumb and ugly
I'll tell you again
We're so young... young, dumb and ugly
We're comin' to your town
Yeah, we're young... young, dumb and ugly
We're wild, reckless men, we're on a rampage again
We drive with just one hand on the wheel
Danger's in our soul, we're goin' out of control
Swimmin' right after a big heavy meal
We're there wherever trouble's starting
We're rebels without a clue
We drink milk right from the carton
And keep our library books 'till they're way overdue
'cause we're young... dumb and ugly
That's what we are
We're so young... young, dumb and ugly
You can't stop us
We're young... we're so young, dumb and ugly
Young, dumb & ugly
We're young... we're young, dumb and ugly
So ugly
Young... dumb... & ugly
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Idle Son
Young Benjamin left school this year
And stepped right in a job;
And he starts in hope of a life career,
Like his eldest brother, Bob.
But Sam, the lad who came between,
Born in the fateful year 'thirteen,
Still vainly seeks a place;
And the mark of his fate, too plainly seen,
Dawns in his listless face.
For Sam was born in a black year,
In the year of the world's black rage
To rob his youth of childish mirth;
And another curse was on the earth
In the year he came of age.
War and depression, this grim twain,
Have clouded life for a bright young brain.
Life smiles for Benjamin and Bob,
Each lucky in his age;
But the count of years falls ill to rob
Same of his heritage:
Too old for a youth's apprenticeship,
Untrained, too young for a man's firm grip,
Tho' a man in stature grown,
He lives to see his chances slip,
Thro' no fault of his own.
For Sam was born in a black year,
In a black year came from school.
But we who know past years of ease
Hold stern responsibilities
Ere his youthful ardours cool.
Ours is the duty, ours the task
To yield what youth has right to ask.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Lipstick Lips
Snow was
Comming...
Slowly
Little...little...
Drops...
On the rose
Flower...
Flower was
Very beauty...
On the snow drops...
Yesquesme;
Sun pleace come
After tommrow...OK! !
Rose was romance
To my girl friend;
Rose colour lipstick lips...! ! ! !
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Young, Dumb Ugly
Were dangerous dudes, we got bad attitudes
Most of our brain cells are gone
We were born to be bad, you better not make us mad
Or we just might toilet paper your lawn
We got a reputation round these parts
We only leave a ten percent tip
Sometimes we dont return our shoping carts
Stay out of our way and dont you give us no lip
cause were young... dumb and ugly
Thats what we are
Were so young... young, dumb and ugly
We wear black leather in the hottest weather
You cant imagine the smell
We got three-day stubble, our names spell trouble
T-r-u-b-e-l
Reaisin hell, bendin the rules just a little
Were livin only for thrills
We squeeze our tooothpaste tubes from the middle
And wait until the last minute to pay our telephone bills
cause were young... dumb and ugly
You better believe it
Were young... young, dumb and ugly
Ill tell you again
Were so young... young, dumb and ugly
Were comin to your town
Yeah, were young... young, dumb and ugly
Were wild, reckless men, were on a rampage again
We drive with just one hand on the wheel
Dangers in our soul, were goin out of control
Swimmin right after a big heavy meal
Were there wherever troubles starting
Were rebels without a clue
We drink milk right from the carton
And keep our library books till theyre way overdue
cause were young... dumb and ugly
Thats what we are
Were so young... young, dumb and ugly
You cant stop us
Were young... were so young, dumb and ugly
Young, dumb & ugly
Were young... were young, dumb and ugly
So ugly
Young... dumb... & ugly
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Young For Love
Too young for love?
Ah, say not so!
Tell reddening rose-buds not to blow
Wait not for spring to pass away,--
Love's summer months begin with May!
Too young for love?
Ah, say not so!
Too young? Too young?
Ah, no! no! no!
Too young for love?
Ah, say not so,
To practise all love learned in May.
June soon will come with lengthened day
While daisies bloom and tulips glow!
Too young for love?
Ah, say not so!
Too young? Too young?
Ah, no! no! no!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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The ROSE Healing - God's Design
When spring comes to us,
Scent of flowers in the air,
A tiny little rosebud,
A flower of God's design.
Perfect in His possession,
Always in His hand,
God unfolds the petals,
The secret's unknown to me,
The tiny little rosebud,
A flower of God's design,
Unfolds with perfection,
The rose in His hand.
As my life lies before me,
With it's joy and distress,
He is always near me,
Unfolding all life's petals,
The flower of His design,
Forever in His hand.
poem by Eva L. Shaw
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Chanson
A RING of gold and a milk-white dove
Are goodly gifts for thee,
And a hempen rope for your own love
To hang upon a tree.
For you a House of Ivory
(Roses are white in the rose-bower)!
A narrow bed for me to lie
(White, O white, is the hemlock flower)!
Myrtle and jessamine for you
(O the red rose is fair to see)!
For me the cypress and the rue
(Fairest of all is rose-mary)!
For you three lovers of your hand
(Green grass where a man lies dead)!
For me three paces on the sand
(Plant lilies at my head)!
poem by Oscar Wilde
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When We Were Young
WHEN WE WERE YOUNG
1)
When we were young
The world was young
Now we are old
And the world is old too.
2)
When we were young
The world was young
Now we are old
And the world is younger
than we are.
3)
When the world was young
I was not young
Now I am old
And the world is older- also.
4)
To be old is to be sadder
So much is not here any more
One will never be
What one was-
One can still hope faintly to be
One what longed to be-
But one knows
This too probably
Will not be given.
5)
Oh how Youth flies by in it all its glory
Oh how Time leaves us alone
With our memories and sadnesses
Our fears
For what is yet to come.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Young William And Young April
Young William and young April
Met in the park one day.
Young William said to April,
'Why did you come this way? '
Young April said to William,
'I thought I might see you.'
Young William, then to April,
'It's funny, what you do.'
Young April gave to William
A sweet, young childhood kiss.
Young William said to April,
'Don't bother me like this.'
Young April stood in silence,
Not knowing what to do.
Then young William turned away.
Young April, torn in two.
Young William said, 'Don't follow me.'
Away from her he fled.
April then, sat down and cried,
And wished that she was dead.
William never came again.
At least, for many years.
Fearful that young April still,
Might be there shedding tears.
William walked the park again.
It seemed just like before.
Wondering if he might see her.
Young April, there once more.
Young William never noticed.
The roses hid it well.
The place they found Young April.
The place she used to dwell.
poem by Greenwolfe 1962
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When!
WHEN I am young again I'll hoard my bliss,
Nor deem that inexhaustible it is,
Remembering old age comes after this,
Joy grows to pain;
Nor waste one moment of youth's rose-sweet hours,
Nor trample one of all its countless flowers,
But drink the summer sun and soft spring showers,
When I am young again.
I will be wise with wisdom dearly won
By those who through life's wood have nearly run;
Learn what to do, and what to leave undone,
Risk or refrain.
I will not seek into my mouth to take
The bitter apple of the acrid lake,
But at clear fountains all my thirsts will slake,
When I am young again.
I will not brush the bloom to reach the core,
Remembering how it chanced with me before,
And bloom once lost returns not any more,
Hard cores remain:
I will fence round with prudence and secure
A lasting bloom whose freshness shall endure;
Oh, I will guard my peach of youth, be sure,
When I am young again.
When I am young again, I'll spend no breath
On bitter words the heart remembereth
When bitterness is swallowed up by Death
Holding sole reign;
I'll love so well that if they pass to sleep
Before me, I shall have no watch to keep
Over their tears-only my tears to weep
When I am young again.
I will not lightly joy nor idly grieve,
Nor for a heaven itself one soul deceive,
Nor will I be deceived, vainly believe,
Nor love in vain.
Come back, lost youth! Ah, Fate, that one gift give!
Then I will show that I have learned to live;
Youth shall be wise--and two and two make five--
When I am young again!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Brightness Breaches and the Beak
Bright young thing: Thou on the beaches
Life is gay and pleasure laden
All in vain the law beseeches
Courtesy from man and maiden
When a car, adorned with beauty
Unadorned, swings down the road,
There's a certain civic duty,
There's a cop, and there's a code,
There's Dame Caution - stuffy ogress -
Who deplores your carefree progress.
Bright young thing, who, with one finger
Nonchalantly on the steering,
(Ever indisposed to linger)
Down the beach road goes careering -
Youth's high claims need no endorsement,
Ever at convention scoffing;
But the fiends of law-enforcement
Lurk obscurely in the offing,
Prone to pounce on any stir made
Even by a scorching mermaid.
Bright young thing: Life can be brighter
When devoid of traffic danger.
E'en this poor pedestrian blighter,
E'en that slow and aged stranger
Has some right to go on living,
On this earth superfluous lagging.
But not the Law, so far forgiving,
Tires of its paternal nagging,
Ill-content to look askance
On sun-tanned insouciance.
Bright young thing upon the beaches,
Youth is urgent, youth is eager.
But no more the Law beseeches
With its admonitions meagre
Your observance of its ruling,
Your respect for cop, and Code,
But, if you must still go fooling,
'Stepping on it' up the road,
At its end, for flapper, shiek,
Lurks, relentlessly, The Beak.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Larkspur
Words roll free from a tongue sometime
From a sometime, tongue-tied tongue,
Words that were heard by the stream and the bird
When the world and the wild were young,
When the world and the wild were young, sometime…
(Larkspur, marigold, ebony, lime) .
Sounds that were born in sweet young breath
In a bubble-sighed, trouble-tried time,
Sounds that were found by a child at the breast
In a bubble-tried pantomime,
In a bubble-tried pantomime, no less…
(Nightshade, cinnamon, green watercress) .
Love is the sound of a word, soft-said
From the lips of the love you too,
Love is the dove of the bubble-thought read
Soft sift from the me to you,
Soft sift from the me to you, soft said…
(Homespun, empathy, marmalade, bread) .
poem by David Lewis Paget (16 December 1973)
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Yesterday's Flower
Yesterday's Flower
sunshine falls on potent flowers
like the nectar of youth's love
' blooms in emerald green ', held captive rose buds
dance to the music of the wind
life at first soft and sweet subtle
a whisper behind the floral scene
we're short lived as the fragrance arose
for the intoxication of seasons past
the celebration of flower's spring
worn thin life's very stem
dew drops hang so sparkling clear
and the musk of a honeysuckle nights
caress the moment and kiss good-by
youth the bloom of a new flower
now spent and broken
and the Fall winds weep!
' We are like a lovely flower, fragrant and firm until
the season of our lives take the lively parts slowly.'
For death waits for no one!
poem by Myrtle Thomas
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Eye 4 An Eye (Silencer Mix)
Even now in heaven
There were angels carrying savage weapons
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
Is that room been fit to earth?
Doesn't help the ??? to grow sunshine?
Is this darkness all you'll take?
Have you'd passed through this life?
Run, run, run, but you sure can't hide...(hide, hide...)
Where you're going you're not coming back from
Run, run, run, but you sure can't hide...(hide, hide...)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
This grain evil
Where is it come from?
Had still the end of the world?
Who's doing this?
Who's killed us?
Marking us with the sign of the holy mighty man
Run, run, run...(run, run...)
Run, run, run...(run, run...)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run, but you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
An eye for an eye...(for an eye...)
A tooth for a tooth...(for a tooth...)
Run, run, run,
But you sure can't hide...(hide...hide)
(An eye for an eye...)
Are you righteous?
(A tooth for a tooth...)
Kind?
(Run, run, run but you sure can't hide...)
Does your confidence lie in this?
(An eye for an
song performed by by Unkle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind. You are as old as your doubt, your fear, your despair. The way to keep young is to keep your faith young. Keep your self confidence young. Keep your hope young.
quote by Luella F. Phean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The Heathrose
ONCE a boy a Rosebud spied,
Heathrose fair and tender,
All array'd in youthful pride,--
Quickly to the spot he hied,
Ravished by her splendour.
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Heathrose fair and tender!
Said the boy, "I'll now pick thee,
Heathrose fair and tender!"
Said the rosebud, "I'll prick thee,
So that thou'lt remember me,
Ne'er will I surrender!"
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Heathrose fair and tender!
Now the cruel boy must pick
Heathrose fair and tender;
Rosebud did her best to prick,--
Vain 'twas 'gainst her fate to kick--
She must needs surrender.
Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,
Heathrose fair and tender!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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