The Appeal
REMAIN, ah not in youth alone,
Though youth, where you are, long will stay,
But when my summer days are gone,
And my autumnal haste away.
“Can I be always by your side?”
No; but the hours you can, you must,
Nor rise at Death’s approaching stride,
Nor go when dust is gone to dust.
poem by Walter Savage Landor

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Related quotes
Remain!
REMAIN, ah not in youth alone!
--Tho' youth, where you are, long will stay--
But when my summer days are gone,
And my autumnal haste away.
'Can I be always by your side?'
No; but the hours you can, you must,
Nor rise at Death's approaching stride,
Nor go when dust is gone to dust.
poem by Walter Savage Landor

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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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From Dust To Dust
This body will perish must
From air to air, from dust to dust
Or Water to water...
Yet we fight!
For our right to win the Flesh, The Buck, the Power..
But Nothing will remain.
Neighbor will laugh at my folly,
In my absence,
Because I was silly
Committing the same mistake.
Knowing nothing remains....
Everybody will go from ash to ashes,
From dust to dust...
From fire we come,
Remain in Water,
Stay in Fire and go to Dust!
poem by Nilakshi Das

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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 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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Nightfall In The Rose-Garden
Ashes to ashes,
Meal to roots of roses:
One-way street in petals falling,
Dust to dust.
The lowering sun sucks
From blown blossoms,
Their colours that go
At last to dust.
Death is in the seed
Bud, root and leaf
Which have no choice
But dust.
From death to death,
The cycle onward blindly
Rolls its endless way
From dust to death.
I, in the falling dusk
Go slowly blind to all.
And shall too, eventually,
Be dust.
poem by Roy William Gotaas

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Swallows in the summertime
Swallows in the summertime
The swallows have returned again,
Reminding me of those halcyon days of my youth,
Many years have passed since those blissful days,
I would spend many happy evenings watch them dart around.
The swallows always return each summer,
Spreading their joyful wings over England's green and pleasant land,
Every summer I wonder how many more times will I see the return,
Although it's summer again, I ‘am approaching the winter of my life.
When the swallows return again next year again,
I wonder if I will still be here to see them again,
Flying on the wing under the clear blue skies of summer,
If I ‘am, I will sit by the babbling brook and watch their dance once more.
If I see the swallows return once more,
I will remember those summer days of long ago,
When I was a lad and the countryside seemed to go on forever,
And in my mind I will be young again.
By Christopher Tye
poem by Christopher Tye

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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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Even Such Is Time
Even such is time, which takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, and all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust,
Who in the dark and silent grave
When we have wandered all our ways
Shuts up the story of our days,
And from which earth, and grave, and dust
The Lord will raise me up, I trust.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh

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Epitaph
Even such is time, which takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, and all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust,
Who in the dark and silent grave
When we have wandered all our ways
Shuts up the story of our days,
And from which earth, and grave, and dust
The Lord will raise me up, I trust.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh

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Sir Walter Raleigh (The night before his death)
Even such is time, which takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, and all we have,
And pays us nought but age and dust;
Which in the dark and silent grave,
When we have wandered all our ways,
Shuts up the story of our days!
And from which grave, and earth, and dust,
The Lord shall raise me up, I trust.'
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh

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You Are Unto Dust
You are made from the dust of the earth,
And the Wailing-Wall will be there for you;
For you are unto dust and you shall return unto dust,
And this is just the journey of the spirit.
To the realm of the unknown and to the things we do for love,
And until death put us apart on this side of the planet;
For the flesh goes back to where it belongs to!
Yes, back to the earth.
Death is part of us and we need to learn from others,
For we have to be prepared as well;
For he flesh goes back to where it belongs to;
And out of the dust we were made.
The dust became flesh and today we are human beings,
And from the knowledge of the things to come;
But naked we came and naked we shall return.
Shed no tears on this love,
For death comes for all of us on this earth;
And we need to learn from the facts around us as well,
For it is better to be very righteous than to be buried with evil deeds.
Life is a long road full of sand and,
All that is acquired on this earth is vanity!
Yes, vanity upon vanity! !
For you and i are unto dust and,
Unto dust we shall return at the end of of all things.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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All Lovely Things
All lovely things will have an ending,
All lovely things will fade and die,
And youth, that's now so bravely spending,
Will beg a penny by and by.
Fine ladies soon are all forgotten,
And goldenrod is dust when dead,
The sweetest flesh and flowers are rotten
And cobwebs tent the brightest head.
Come back, true love! Sweet youth, return!--
But time goes on, and will, unheeding,
Though hands will reach, and eyes will yearn,
And the wild days set true hearts bleeding.
Come back, true love! Sweet youth, remain!--
But goldenrod and daisies wither,
And over them blows autumn rain,
They pass, they pass, and know not whither.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken

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What Are We?
WHAT ARE WE?
What are we?
Dust of the earth
Dust of the stars
Thinking dust
Dreaming dust
Loving dust
Dust of Dust
God’s Dust
What are we?
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Goin Back To Alabama
(with kenny rogers)
Goin back to alabama...
Now that Ive learned a thing or two
Life for me had been so easy
But Ive got some livin yet to do
cause a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
My friend...
Some days I didnt wanna wake up in the mornin
My family and friends were all down on me
I tried to tell em where I was goin
But they never saw the man I saw in me
Some folks call me a dreamer
Other folks laughed and called me a fool
All I ever wanted to be was a winner
cause I know a winner can never lose
cause a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
cause a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
My friend...
Yes a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
(pick himself up)
And dust himself off
(dust himself off)
(and)
Start all over again
Im a man
Im a man
(Im a man)
You know a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again
You know a man who walks by the side of the road
Can turn himself around
He can pick himself up
And dust himself off
And start all over again...
song performed by by Michael Jackson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Mood of youth,
Mood of youth,
Eagle-like must seek the blue,
Dauntlessly its course pursue,
All the mountain-heights must view.
Blood of youth,
Blood of youth,
Steam-like puts full-speed to sea,
E'en though storm and ice there be,
Makes its way and romps in glee.
Dream of youth,
Dream of youth,
Rogue-like stealing sets its snare
In the maiden's morning-prayer;
All the springtime, fragrant, glowing,
In its airy waves is flowing.
Joy of youth,
Joy of youth,
Waterfall-like foams in truth,
Laughing, rainbow-gifts forth flashing,
Even while to death 't is dashing.
Joy of youth,
Dream of youth,
Blood of youth,
Mood of youth,
Clothe the world with colors golden,
Singing songs that never olden.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

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Try Again
What would you do
To get to me
What would you say
To have your way
Would you give up
Or try again
If I hesitate
To let you win
Or would you be yourself
Or play your role
Tell all the boys
Or keep it low
If I say no
Would you turn away
Or play me off
Or would you stay
[Chorus]
At first you succeed
Dust yourself off and try it again
You can dust it off and try it again
At first you succeed
Dust yourself off and try it again
You can dust it off and try it again
I went to you
You went to me
But I cant let it go
So easily
Not 'til I see
What this could be
Be eternity
Or just a week
Your chemistry
Is off the change
Is perfect now
But will it change
This aint a yes
This aint a no
Just do your thang
At first you succeed
Dust yourself off and try it again
You can dust it off and try it again
At first you succeed
Dust yourself off and try it again
You can dust it off and try it again
[Hook]
If you dont wanna throw it all away
Might be shy on the first date
What about the next date
um
song performed by by Aaliyah from Aaliyah

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Journeys In Paradise
I wonder
I ponder
When you left
What were you thinking of?
Did you expect to find Love
Or Death?
Life could have been different
Youth does not know any better
Life would have been better
Youth is eerily nonchalant.
We long for perfect days
That will never come
Yesterday disappeared in the blaze
What remain are ashes and foams.
We wonder
We ponder
We miss things that we never had
We can awfully be sad and be mad
What were you thinking of?
Were you chasing Love?
We will never live
The long gone journeys in Paradise
Let's move on and be wise.
Because you had to leave
Life is now very different
And our love is somewhat deficient.
poem by Hebert Logerie

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Elizabeth Childers
Dust of my dust,
And dust with my dust,
O, child who died as you entered the world,
Dead with my death!
Not knowing Breath, though you tried so hard,
With a heart that beat when you lived with me,
And stopped when you left me for Life.
It is well, my child. For you never traveled
The long, long way that begins with school days,
When little fingers blur under the tears
That fall on the crooked letters.
And the earliest wound, when a little mate
Leaves you alone for another;
And sickness, and the face of Fear by the bed;
The death of a father or mother;
Or shame for them, or poverty;
The maiden sorrow of school days ended;
And eyeless Nature that makes you drink
From the cup of Love, though you know it’s poisoned;
To whom would your flower-face have been lifted?
Botanist, weakling? Cry of what blood to yours?—
Pure or foul, for it makes no matter,
It’s blood that calls to our blood.
And then your children—oh, what might they be?
And what your sorrow? Child! Child!
Death is better than Life!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters from Spoon River Anthology

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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