The Prime of Life
OH, the strength of the toil of those twenty years, with father, and master, and men!
And the clearer brain of the business man, who has held his own for ten:
Oh, the glorious freedom from business fears, and the rest from domestic strife!
The past is dead, and the future assured, and I’m in the prime of life!
She bore me old, and they kept me old, and they worked me early and late;
I carried the loads of my selfish tribe, from seven to thirty eight:
I slaved with dad, in the dust and heat, that my brothers might enjoy—
But I rest to-day in the prime of life, and I’ll live and die a boy!
When the last crop failed, and the stock were gone, did the old man’s head go down?
No! he started business, on what was left, in the produce line in town.
They sent my brothers to boarding schools, when our way to the front we’d won—
They’d borrow, and borrow, but never had aught but contempt for the eldest son.
My brothers they went to the world away, and they left the home in strife.
They sowed wild oats in the pride of youth, and they pawned the prime of life.
They sowed too fast, and they sowed too far; and they came back one by one—
You couldn’t tell which is the eldest son and which is the youngest son.
Oh, I longed for a love that I could not claim, and a breath of the youth denied—
But I stuck to the store when the old man went, and the mater until she died:
With Job’s own sister and Satan’s aunt—good Lord! and the fiend’s own wife—
But I’m free of them now, it is no matter how, and I’m in the prime of life.
My brothers have turned respectable, and are steady as men can be:
The youngest and worst is a leading light—and he aims at reforming me!
But I lend and help, and I’ll fix them up, for I can’t but see with a sigh,
That the youngest, who left us a handsome boy, is an older man than I.
But it’s “Lord make us thankful” three times a day, before they eat their fill—
They can thank the Lord if they like, I say, but I reckon I pay the bill.
They feel independent, I’m glad to know, for if all I hear is true,
My brothers agree that I do no more than I have a right to do.
They’ll work in the store while I see the world, and I’ll let them share the till—
But I sail to-day, for a year away, to go wherever I will:
I sail with the woman who waited for me—old sweetheart; and brand new wife—
She is handsome and true, and she’s thirty-two—and I’m in the prime of life.
For Capetown, and London, and Norraway, for Germany, Holland, and France,
For Switzerland, Italy—anywhere—for Greece, and for Egypt a glance,
For India, China, and “strange Japan”, for the East with mystery rife—
I have made enough, and I have my love—and I’m in the prime of life!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Related quotes
My Friends Back In My Prime Years
My friends back in my prime years I never did disown
It's just that I live far from them and apart we have grown
We drank and played football together but our separate ways we've gone
And we have forged new friendships and life of course goes on.
My friends back in my prime years may now look a bit gray
And they might not know me or I might not know them if by chance we met today
In my memory they have remained young but in reality
The years have left their mark on them as the years have left their mark on me.
Old father time the aloof one to anyone doesn't bow
And some of my friends of my prime years may be grand parents now
Perhaps they now are showing their age and time has left them slow
They could run fast as I recall some twenty years ago.
My friends back in my prime years I may now not recognize
For time leaves it's mark on all of us I've come to realize
I drunk beer with them in the pub and with them played football
And that was many years ago as I can well recall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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You Will Always Be My Father
I dearly loved my Father,
Till I was about twelve years old,
Then he started to go astray,
An affair is what I was told.
I fought with my Mother and Brothers,
They said he was just a rat
He was my reason for living,
My Dad could not do that.
At first he disappeared for days,
I didn't know where or when,
He could have been alive or dead,
But then he'd appear again.
There was never an explanation,
He should have given me that at least,
Then he'd show from out of the blue,
With his gifts from the mystic east.
You left my mum to struggle on,
With five of us in tow,
You let your heart rule your head,
You just didn't want to know.
I never believed you could have an affair,
I kept that in my head,
Until that fateful day I was shown,
You lying in anothers bed.
I never spoke to you for seven years,
That's when fate stepped in,
When I met you in the street one day,
I still felt the love within.
I bonded with you once again,
I unloaded my long held grudge,
Who am I to lecture you,
The Good Lord would be your judge.
You then met your younger siblings,
Whom you had barely known,
It gave you one last chance in life,
To see how they had grown.
You threw away a life of bliss,
But I don't believe you were bad,
To throw away your Wife and Sons,
You had to be bloody mad.
I was with you on the Thursday,
You just wanted to go to bed,
When I went to meet you on Friday,
I was informed that you were dead.
I will be eternally grateful,
For having you back in my life,
Life is really far too short,
To continue a lifelong strife.
So may you rest in peace Dad,
Though it's thirty two years on,
It seems like only yesterday,
I was told that you had gone.
Your wayward ways affected us all,
They had us in a lather,
But regardless of your betrayal,
‘' You Will Always Be My Father ‘'
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
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The Working Man Is A Decent Man
The working man never daydreams of wearing the boss's shoes
But in the pub with his good mates he does enjoy his booze
And he enjoys their every chat of life and of football
Since politics and World affairs doesn't interest him at all.
Devoted to his family and devoted to his wife
The working man is a decent man he leads a moral life
To watch their favourite football team in action he often takes his family
So easy going and down to earth and of any cares he's free.
You never do hear him complain of how times are quite tough
That his wife and family are happy and well for him is good enough
His ancestors like him of working stock they never craved renown
They are amongst the great unsung who helped to build the town.
He gets up in the gray of dawn for work each working day
Let's hear it for the working man a rousing hip hooray
Two of his children are in primary school his youngest for school too young
In his early thirties in the prime of life one of the town's unsung.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Brothers
Lets get to the point now
Just because weve got the same mum and dad
That dont mean im your keeper
That dont mean I owe anything to you
You dont care for me
And man I dont think that much of you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
You drove my car when we were young boys
And you tore it up too
You never paid to get it fixed
And you got me beat up a time or two
I know I should forgive and forget
But man I still hold a grudge against you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
It is as normal as it can be
This sibling rivalry
We should have dropped it at 22
But man I cant stand the things you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Youre always want something from me
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
It was so much fun having you in the family
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Now that were grown it aint helped nothin? at all
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
On my birthday, please dont bother to call
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, youre my brother brother brother
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come Back, Brother
I have brothers
Yet I know them not
They live far away
In the hearts of Americas
Down the lanes of London
In the far east sunshine
Seeking for the golden fleece
I have many brothers
Yet they are invisible
I am not acquainted with them
Yet they wire currencies to me
Vide the Western Union
I cannot touch them
Because they are far removed
I longed to see my brothers
I longed to touch them all
Let me embrace them once
Let me see them face to face
Come back home brothers
Come home to roost
Come home to rest
Come and take your deserted thrones
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Success has name
Each success has name
Women are there to claim
Stands like rock behind
Firm but very much kind
Right from wife
To show the meaning of life
To give a company with courage
How best both the ends to meet and manage!
Delightful figure to a small child
Stick on hand but at heart good and mild
No one can control her when turned wild
If honor and pride was to be seen as blind
As daughter too shown enough of affection
No protest to any one if beaten with reaction
Not only equal love to father, mother and brothers
But around all who live in vicinity and as neighbors
Good teacher, good economist and now good administrator
Right from councilor to chief minister and prime minister
Has served the head of the nation and now liberty torch bearer
Women can lead honorable life without any fear
Sky they have explored and proved good scientists
Stood as solid rock and faced rough weather amidst
So to say bow the head to the feat of glorious mother
Be she a lover, friend, sister or in form of any other
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Berwick's Fairest
The fairest one in Berwick when she was in her prime
But that was fifteen years ago and that's going back in time
She may be only forty but she has put on weight
And the one who once had many suitors goes un-noticed of late.
Her primary school going sons of ten and eleven she raises them on her own
And she works hard for to make ends meet and better times she's known
Three years back her husband left her for another and child support to her doesn't pay
And for her children and her own survival she must battle all the way.
Ever since her husband left her she's left her body go into disrepair
And of how she looks to others she seem to no longer care
She has put on twenty kilos and much gray in her brown hair
And for one only in her mid life she is showing much wear and tear.
That she was Berwick's fairest might seem hard to realize
For if you had known her in her prime day her you may not recognize
And for one who looked quite attractive up to a decade ago
She has aged so very quickly and the hard life on her show
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Wonder How A Man
I wonder how a man should behave towards his wife
Should he love her till he draw his last breath of life
And agree with everything that she has to say
And tell her he loves her many times a day?
Or spend far more time with his mates at the pub
Discussing the welfare of the football club
And leave his wife at home of their children to take care?
The ideal sort of husband to say the least rare.
In the company of men I have spent too much time
Played football, worked and drunk alcohol with them back in my life's prime
To females us males are of different kind
To every good man ten good women you'll find.
Respect to all women all men ought to show
But how a man should behave towards his woman I hardly would know
Since I have never been known as a ladies man
And I'm now in the Autumn years of my life's span.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Father Joe Murphy
When i was a Schoolboy Father Joe Murphy was a young man
I recall him and his Brothers Doney and the late Johnny Dan
And though of my existence he hardly would know
One cannot help but remember the great Father Joe.
Fifty five years as a priest something to celebrate
The man has been blessed in his great gift of faith
To his own higher self and to his god true
We must give him credit since credit he is due.
Devoted to his god by good example he lead
At living a good life one who does succeed
A credit to Millstreet and the pride of his clan
The great Father Joe is a wonderful man.
In this age of the cheapening values in life
With warring and famines and poverty rife
A story like Father Joe's a great story to hear
There's still hope for humanity it does appear.
Fifty five years a priest is something well worth a boast
To Father Joe Murphy we will drink a toast
He was in his prime years when i was quite young
And surely his praises deserve to be sung.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Wouldnt I Be Someone
Maybe theres a reason why we broke up
I could dedicate my life to something new
But I must have been asleep but then I woke up
Working out why I was still with you
All the things I wish I could have been
Wouldnt I be someone , someone
And I would be respected
In the prime of my life , Ill do evrything right
Ill begin
Wouldnt I be something , something
I would get a reputation
In the prime of my life , Ill do evrything right
Ill begin
(break)
Midnight stars are shining on my shoeshine
Telling me the things Im gonna be
Now the hurts all gone , Ive pushed them all behind me
And the world is gonna fall in love with me
All the things I wish I could have been
Wouldnt I be someone , someone
And I would be respected
In the prime of my life, Ill do evrything right
Ill begin
Wouldnt I be something, something
I would get a reputation
In the prime of my life , Ill do evrything right
Ill begin
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Last Man Standing
My eldest is in China
On the way to the Li Jiang
She’s seen the Terracotta Warriors
In a place that called Xian.
My youngest, she’s in Sydney town
Her love in life is reading books
She has a sense of fantasy
And red curled Irish looks.
Me? I am in Pearl Beach
For others paradise
But I am on my own up here
And lead a damaged life.
I suffer from depression
And that’s very clear to see
For though the sun is shining high
It looks so dark to me.
I have many close that hold me
I am lucky in that way
They love me just for me being me
And don’t seem go away.
But the track of time’s unwinding
Each year, past friends are lost
Sometimes illness, now a suicide
And ‘gainst their names I put a cross.
For I am the last man standing
I’m like those soldiers made of clay
I am the last man standing
I am not going to go away.
I am the last man standing
For I have a hand of cards
That others wish that they did have
But being the last’s becoming hard.
For my eldest is in China
My youngest still in Sydney town
Although they are away from me
My heart is with them now.
Look! My greyness, it is passing
Now I can see the sun!
I know they love me for being me
Not for what I have not done.
For this thing called life is fragile
But it has a strength within
Not brittle like those warriors
But as fine as porcelain.
poem by David Keig
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Poverty And Wealth
The stork flew over a town one day,
And back of each wing an infant lay;
One to a rich man’s home he brought,
And one he left at a labourer’s cot.
The rich man said, ‘My son shall be
A lordly ruler o’er land and sea.’
The labourer sighed, ‘’Tis the good God’s will
That I have another mouth to fill.’
The rich man’s son grew strong and fair,
And proud with the pride of a millionaire.
His motto in life was, ‘Live while you may, ’
And he crowded years in a single day.
He bought position and name and place,
And he bought him a wife with a handsome face.
He journeyed over the whole wide world,
But discontent his heart lay curled
Like a serpent hidden in leaves and moss,
And life seemed hollow and gold was dross.
He scoffed at woman, and doubted God,
And died like a beast and went back to the sod.
The son of the labourer tilled the soil,
And thanked God daily for health and toil.
He wedded for love in his youthful prime,
And two lives chorded in tune and time.
His wants were simple, and simple his creed,
To trust God fully: it served his need,
And lightened his labour, and helped him to die
With a smile on his lips and a hope in his eye.
When all is over and all is done,
Now which of these men was the richer one?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Prime Time
Cavalier roses, but the thorns got in my soul
Chocolate box intention, but a bitter taste left me cold
Take a little something, a present clouds the past
Traded our emotions, it couldnt last, wouldnt last at all
And though you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Fine time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
Bitter suite decision, sofa so good the day we met
Eye for eye collision, pillow talking, only pillow talking
Matinee romancing, the bait is set, the net is cast
Cheated our emotions, it couldnt last
Wouldnt last at all
Although you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
And words are words thats all
Im going to stand or fall
Prime time for hook and line
Dont you swim away...
Prime time for the hook and line
Prime time for the hook and line
For the hook, the hook and line
Although you didnt say, yeah
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down
Line by line adventure
A prime time for the hook and line
Castaway in pleasure
A prime time
Curtain razor tension
A prime time for the hook and line
Wasted our emotions
A prime time
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Becoming a Priest…
Tomorrow may not come at all;
Listen today to Jesus’ call;
Now is the time to truly act;
This is the truth of life and fact.
The man of poverty can shine,
More than the moon or sun so fine;
Humble yourself and make accord
For life, with Almighty God, Lord.
Stands before him, the Holy Cross;
God shows that Jesus Christ is boss;
The Monstrance is Christ’s earthly home;
The penitent is most welcome.
Only the soul pure can commune,
And walk or run to divine tune;
The Eucharist is prime in life,
No matter any kind of strife.
The body, blood of Jesus Christ
Is food for any holy priest;
Nothing can deter when God calls,
For Jesus lifts you up from falls!
The greatest gift of life from God
Is returned back to Jesus Lord;
The world or devils can’t stop you
From love of God, that you thus do.
The grace of God strengthens your soul,
And brazens you up for new role;
And if your calling is so true,
God gives you every kind of cue.
Ascertaining your love for Him,
While crave for world turns very dim,
The oracle is very clear;
The road to heaven brings no fear.
One needs to do much sacrifice,
And give up every kind of vice;
For anyone can turn a saint,
When grace of God becomes soul’s paint!
The Lord will surely help you out
From obstacles, without a doubt;
For, priesthood is the clarion call
For man to enter God’s own hall.
Ordination is Sacrament
Most Holy, and most paramount;
God’s love encompasses the soul;
Service to God becomes prime goal.
The road to heaven becomes straight;
Eternity with God is fate;
Bringing more souls to God is prime;
God shows the way in His own time!
Love priesthood, man for God beckons,
And Jesus Christ Himself reckons;
Rewards in Heaven you await,
However narrow be its gate!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-12-10
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perfect System
Im in love with you I know
And I know that you love me too
Im in love with you I know
Im in love with everyone too
Were all comrades now you know
Were all brothers under the skin
With a few adjustments now
Living in the perfect system
The adjustments simple there is really no pain
Youll hardly notice anything has changed
Living in a programmed life never really has ups and downs
Theres no need for fighting now
Theres no reason to wear a frown
In a perfect system
Theres no confrontation
Unnecessary friction
To impede our concentration
Weve simply done away with
Unnecessary friction
I live in a system
I got an occupation
I get enough nutrition
By eating protein biscuits
Recommended by the system
Its routine regulation
I had an operation . . .
Im in love with you I know
And I know that you love me too
Im in love with you I know
Im in love with everyone too
I can tell by the look in your blank dull eyes
That you agree, but Im not a bit surprised
Living in a programmed life never really has ups and downs
Theres no need for fighting now
Theres no reason to wear a frown
I had an operation
With no adverse reaction
They tampered with my brain some
It helped me see the reason
For living in the system
It helped me see the reason
(were all brothers in a perfect world)
In a perfect world theres uniformity
(were all brothers in a perfect world)
In a perfect world theres conformity
(were all brothers in a perfect world)
Theres no need for spontaneity
Perfect system were all brothers to the end
Brothers to the end
Brothers to the end
I know and I know that you love me too
(brothers to the end) I know Im in love with everyone too
(brothers to the end) I know were all comrades under the skin
(brothers to the end) I know living in a perfect system
Brothers to the end
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Committed Disciples
With The Word God speaks to us, when we know The Lord Jesus,
The Word the Spirit also uses, to move upon those God chooses,
Men who don’t know His Son, Christ, who came to save everyone,
Through The Word both can receive, wisdom, as God they believe.
In our prayers we speak to Him, God, who saved man from all sin,
Confession to The Lord we make, as sin, God helps us to forsake,
And to The Lord we lift request, so for Christ, we can live our best,
Other men can even pray to Christ, if they desire in Him, a new life.
By fellowship in Christ with others, we together mature as Brothers,
Sisters and Brothers, in Christ above, as God fills us with His Love,
In that love and encouragement, guided by the Spirit God has sent,
We can help one another grow, and live for God the Truth we know.
To The Lord believers must commit, all their life, to be spiritually fit,
To be used for the Kingdom of God, while we’re on the earthly sod,
We all must live a life of discipline, while in this world filled with sin,
Willing for Jesus to pay the price, and become His Living Sacrifice.
For The Lord, we must choose, as Messengers of His Good News,
Discernment towards all the night, to be for God our Savior’s Light.
Through The Word and by prayer, God’s Good News we can share,
As a fellowship committed to be, His Body, pointing all to Eternity.
(Copyright ©10/2009)
On The Eve Of His Execution
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 Dan Costinaş
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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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