Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXVII
At such a time indeed of youth's first morn,
There is a heaving of the soul in pain,
A mighty labour as of joys unborn,
Which grieves it and disquiets it in vain.
The soul is scared at her own lack of peace,
Her cradle song is mute, and she has fled
From her old life as to a wilderness.
She finds herself awake and without bread.
'Tis then the body, her new counsellor,
Speaks in her ear, and still with eloquence
Pleads for more action, and his voice to her
Is sweet with love, and sadly she consents.
There is a day of youth which needs must come
When each must learn his life and leave his home.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Related quotes
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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The Despair
Beneath this gloomy shade,
By Nature only for my sorrows made,
I'll spend this voyce in crys,
In tears I'll waste these eyes
By Love so vainly fed;
So Lust of old the Deluge punished.
Ah wretched youth! said I,
'Ah, wretched youth!' twice did I sadly cry:
'Ah, wretched youth!' the fields and floods reply.
When thoughts of Love I entertain,
I meet no words but 'Never,' and 'In vain.'
'Never' alas that dreadful name
Which fuels the infernal flame:
'Never,' My time to come must waste;
'In vain,' torments the present and the past.
'In vain, in vain!' said I;
'In vain, in vain!' twice did I sadly cry;
'In vain, in vain!' the fields and floods reply.
No more shall fields or floods do so;
For I to shades more dark and silent go:
All this world's noise appears to me
A dull ill-acted comedy:
No comfort to my wounded sight,
In the suns busy and imperti'nent Light.
Then down I laid my head;
Down on cold earth; and for a while was dead,
And my freed soul to a strange somewhere fled.
'Ah, sottish Soul' said I,
When back to its cage again I saw it fly;
'Fool to resume her broken chain!
And row her galley here again!'
'Fool, to that body to return
Where it condemn'd and destin'd is to burn!
Once dead, how can it be,
Death should a thing so pleasant seem to thee,
That thou should'st come to live it o're again in me?'
poem by Abraham Cowley
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Youth Dream Purchase Price Paid
youth dreams full of testosterone
impatience desires action completion
now now now youth is life trying
youth is working for other people
youth is working with other people
youth is learning about other people
in changing challenging life context
enjoy it or frustrated with it a lot
but at the same time youth screaming
to break out and be able to do own thing
the majority of the work force
probably feels this ghost echo
definitely crisis mix sometimes
few people get to do exactly
what they want to do
all or even most of the time
employment is necessity
unless rich financially
care free freedom independent
the less capital qualifications
the more compromise
due to lack of opportunities
working for others
is a good chance
to learn from their expertise
mistakes management
staff interaction
all necessary important
skills learn everything
you can while waiting
for your own dreams
an important
knowledge skills
career with many
interactive fields
of acquired knowledge
waits over horizons
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Wish You: Peace!
You will ever need your peace
It's what will give your life ease
Then a life with it gets a good treat
It has value nothing dares to beat
To me, He whispers sweet peace
It brings my soul a great ease
Many people are seeking for riches
As it can put food in those dishes
It can settle some of your wishes
It can put clothes on your back
It can bring you fame in a big stock
But this it seemed to have lacked
Since it made some people blocked
The beauty of having sweet peace
To me, He whispers sweet peace
And my soul finds a great ease
There is peace in Christ for all
He will give to those that'll call....
It's better than silver and gold
So, whether you are young or old
Your soul will need to be at ease
Then seek the PRINCE of PEACE
To me, He whispers sweet peace
And my soul finds immense peace
I wish you: Peace!
poem by Clarence Prince
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The Drifting Soul
O! For that leaf in the mighty boundless sea!
In a world larger than its soul will ever be
On that deep, wild, and silence sea
The soul so lonely drift aimlessly free!
O! .for that youth from mortal breath plucked.
In the bowel of the earth untimely locked
The world is a lonely place, the grave lonely still
The soul grieves but tell no one will
Does it roam every earth's dusty way
Or remain where its lifeless form doth lay?
Does it drift with the wind endlessly free
Like that leaf in the mighty turbulant sea
Or perharps it journeys through time and space
Until it finds a perfect resting place!
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
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The Lose Of Love
The life after ending love is like deserted home,
The love is my happy home that my soul lives in
But when the love is gone
Inside me the warm feeling of the love
Remains the memory of gone love every while and while
And fades away at once
But in vain all this pain
While the love is dead
Falling in love brings us to life
We begin to see things like never were there before
All the beauties come to life with love
The birds voices begins to appear
Ah, what a wonderful feeling
While all the past wounds disappears at once
Everywhere is colored blue with green
he soul wears the peace
The laughter comes from deeper inside our hearts
without any whys just because the soul is in love
Ah, nothing left there
Oh, the love is gone its cold winter time
Here inside, , ,
Inside my soul
The poor memories of lost love revives every while and while and ends at once with the dawn.
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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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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Then and Now -A Stone Breaker
When first I saw thee breaking stones
My heart was filled with praise
And delight on a rose like face.
What heaving bosom and how did it nurse
The hopes of life and desires of youth
And how joyfully didst thou talk
Of life everlasting.
But now I am pained to see thee;
Is it thou same young lady?
So changed in so short a time!
These sunken eyes, these hollow looks
Are these the same that pierced my heart?
O stony stare, where is life?
Whither is hope fled?
These withered cheeks, these pale lips
No more betray the colour of a rose;
And this bosom which once did nurse
The hopes of life; the joys of youth:
To this bosom now clings a child,
A life! Oh no no no
It's misery nursing death.
Childhood Alone Is Glad
Childhood alone is glad. With it time flees
In constant mimes and bright festivities.
It, like the ever-restless butterfly,
Or seeks or settles on some flower of joy.
Youth chases pleasure, but oft starteth pain;
And love, youth's birthright, oft is love in vain;
While manhood follows wealth, or woos ambition,
That are but courted cares; and, with transition
Insensible, he enters upon age;
Thence gilding like a spectre from life's stage,
E'en through the door of dotage. So he passes
To second childhood; but, as quickening gases,
Being fled, leave zestless a once cheering draught,
We grow not merry though the dotard laughed.
poem by Charles Heavysege
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The Magnetic Lady To Her Patient
I.
'Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain;
My hand is on thy brow,
My spirit on thy brain;
My pity on thy heart, poor friend;
And from my fingers flow
The powers of life, and like a sign,
Seal thee from thine hour of woe;
And brood on thee, but may not blend
With thine.
II.
'Sleep, sleep on! I love thee not;
But when I think that he
Who made and makes my lot
As full of flowers as thine of weeds,
Might have been lost like thee;
And that a hand which was not mine
Might then have charmed his agony
As I another's--my heart bleeds
For thine.
III.
'Sleep, sleep, and with the slumber of
The dead and the unborn
Forget thy life and love;
Forget that thou must wake forever;
Forget the world's dull scorn;
Forget lost health, and the divine
Feelings which died in youth's brief morn;
And forget me, for I can never
Be thine.
IV.
'Like a cloud big with a May shower,
My soul weeps healing rain
On thee, thou withered flower!
It breathes mute music on thy sleep
Its odour calms thy brain!
Its light within thy gloomy breast
Spreads like a second youth again.
By mine thy being is to its deep
Possessed.
V.
'The spell is done. How feel you now?'
'Better—Quite well,' replied
The sleeper.--'What would do
You good when suffering and awake?
What cure your head and side?--'
‘What would cure, that would kill me, Jane:
And as I must on earth abide
Awhile, yet tempt me not to break
My chain.'
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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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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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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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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Amber Autumn (Sonnet)
To some, their youth was just sublime.
Then age crept up and over time
Their joy then faded with the years
As body changes led to fears.
Their days are spent rememb’ring when...
They long to see their youth again.
For those whose youth was filled with strife,
Their autumn years are best in life.
Now their retirement Is here,
Old age is far from what they fear.
Time now to enjoy and savour
Their rewards for past times labour.
It’s time to spread their wings and fly,
To enjoy God’s gifts ‘fore they die.
poem by Connie Marcum Wong
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The Love Of A Flower
Love is peace without thoughts
Is a colorful flower
Is a blue light
Is a view all in youth..... Love is a hidden star
Is a moon yet to be discovered
Is a honeymoon onto his deep skin
Is the hunger of man to loved eternally The love of a flower.....
Is a rest upon your man's chest
Is a first love of a Springtime dream
Is a gift from the above onto his arms The love of a flower.....
Is to witness the birth of your son
Is to awake for the first time
Is to swim for love once again with him The love of a flower.....
Is to really learn to love and see life for what it is
Is to be able to write a poem to the sky and smile
Is to look at your love and state "indeed you're all my youth"
poem by Minerva A. Garcia
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My Last Breath
I believe,
The time has come for me to move on.
My breath shall no longer blow,
My heart shall no longer beat strong.
This physical body I shall leave behind,
But, my Soul will be set free.
There will be no more pain no more sadness,
Nothing left in which to hurt me.
Sadly I must leave behind what has always meant the most,
Only because I know I am not what they need.
They deserve to be happy not watch me suffer,
Their much better off, indeed.
So as I prepare for my long journey Home,
I finally begin to feel some peace of mind.
Soon all this will be behind me,
And eternal peace I too shall find
poem by Jessica Lynn Hepner
Submitted by Jessica Lynn Hepner
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After The Thunder
An echo fades of sounds once heard
By thousands brought together for
His ringing voice, a soul that stirred
The faithful to a mighty roar.
For twenty years upon the stage
For twenty years upon the stage
The passion deep within his soul
Brought forth the anger and the rage
His vision locked upon one goal.
The promises of rock and roll could
Break the chains upon his life,
Guitar in hand he vowed he would
Be free from pain and inner strife.
He shook the rafters in the halls
And brought the faithful to their feet,
His river coursed through mighty walls
Across this land, down every street.
With flag unfurled he took the word
Across the seas to hungry youth
Who raised their hands when eer they heard
His cries for faith, and hope, and truth.
Today he stands with inner peace
A man content with home and health,
Upon his brow a jagged crease
A symbol of success and wealth.
The thunder of his younger days
Has passed, and now his words reveal
A calmer soul in many ways
Fulfilled with satisfactions real.
His arms upraised against the light
He stands alone, his eyes look toward
The ground below, a bird in flight
Still searching for his true reward.
His mission done, he finds retreat
With children and a loving wife,
His body tired from the heat
The price he pays for touring life.
But deep within the longings stir
The music runs within him still,
His passions for the times that were
Are stronger than his iron will.
And all of us who know the man
Will come together when he cries
The message we all understand
The thunder in us never dies.
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Fable
SILENT and sunny was the way
Where Youth and I danced on together:
So winding and embowered o'er,
We could not see one rood before.
Nevertheless all merrily
We bounded onward, Youth and I,
Leashed closely in a silken tether:
(Well-a-day, well-a-day!)
Ah Youth, ah Youth, but I would fain
See thy sweet foolish face again!
It came to pass, one morn of May,
All in a swoon of golden weather,
That I through green leaves fluttering
Saw Joy uprise on Psyche wing:
Eagerly, too eagerly
We followed after,--Youth and I,--
Till suddenly he slipped the tether:
(Well-a-day, well-a-day!)
'Where art thou, Youth?' I cried. In vain;
He never more came back again.
Yet onward through the devious way
In rain or shine, I recked not whether,
Like many other maddened boy
I tracked my Psyche-wingèd Joy;
Till, curving round the bowery lane,
Lo,--in the pathway stood pale Pain,
And we met face to face together:
(Well-a-day, well-a-day!)
'Whence comest thou?'--and I writhed in vain--
'Unloose thy cruel grasp, O Pain!'
But he would not. Since, day by day
He has ta'en up Youth's silken tether
And changed it into iron bands.
So through rich vales and barren lands
Solemnly, all solemnly,
March we united, he and I;
And we have grown such friends together
(Well-a-day, well-a-day!)
I and this my brother Pain,
I think we'll never part again.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Work chapter VII
Then a ploughman said, "Speak to us of Work."
And he answered, saying:
You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.
For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life's procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite.
When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.
Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?
Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth's furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life,
And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.
But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written.
You have been told also life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary.
And I say that life is indeed darkness save when there is urge,
And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge,
And all knowledge is vain save when there is work,
And all work is empty save when there is love;
And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.
And what is it to work with love?
It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.
Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in sleep, "he who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is a nobler than he who ploughs the soil.
And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet."
But I say, not in sleep but in the over-wakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass;
And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving.
Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger.
And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distills a poison in the wine.
And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Oh That I Were As In Months Past!
Sweet was the time when first I felt
The Saviour's pard'ning blood
Applied, to cleanse my soul from guilt,
And bring me home to God.
Soon as the morn the light revealed,
His praises tuned my tongue;
And when the evening shades prevailed,
His love was all my song.
In vain the tempter spread his wiles,
The world no more could charm;
I lived upon my Saviour's smiles,
And leaned upon his arm.
In prayer my soul drew near the Lord,
And saw his glory shine;
And when I read his holy word,
I called each promise mine.
Then to his saints I often spoke;
Of what his love had done;
But now my heart is almost broke,
For all my joys are gone.
Now when the evening shade prevails,
My soul in darkness mourns,
And when the morn the light reveals,
No light to me returns.
My prayers are now a chatt'ring noise,
For Jesus hides his face;
I read, the promise meets my eyes,
But will not reach my case.
Now Satan threatens to prevail,
And make my soul his prey;
Yet, Lord, thy mercies cannot fail,
O come without delay.
poem by John Newton
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