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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=386516" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Elder's Rebuke</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=386516" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Listen! When your hair, like mine,<br>Takes a tint of silver gray;<br>When your eyes, with dimmer shine,<br>Watch life's bubbles float away:</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=386516" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When you, young man, have borne like me<br>The weary weight of sixty-three,<br>Then shall penance sore be paid<br>For those hours so wildly squandered;<br>And the words that now fall dead<br>On your ear, be deeply pondered—<br>Pondered and approved at last:<br>But their virtue will be past!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=386516" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Glorious is the prize of Duty,<br>Though she be 'a serious power';<br>Treacherous all the lures of Beauty,<br>Thorny bud and poisonous flower!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=386516" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Mirth is but a mad beguiling<br>Of the golden-gifted time;<br>Love—a demon-meteor, wiling<br>Heedless feet to gulfs of crime.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=386516" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Those who follow earthly pleasure,<br> Heavenly knowledge will not lead;<br>Wisdom hides from them her treasure,<br> Virtue bids them evil-speed!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=386516" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Vainly may their hearts repenting.<br> Seek for aid in future years;<br>Wisdom, scorned, knows no relenting;<br> Virtue is not won by fears.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=386516" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Thus spake the ice-blooded elder gray;<br>The young man scoffed as he turned away,<br>Turned to the call of a sweet lute's measure,<br>Waked by the lightsome touch of pleasure:<br>Had he ne'er met a gentler teacher,<br>Woe had been wrought by that pitiless preacher.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Emily+Jane+Bront%C3%AB">Emily Jane Brontë</a></strong></div>

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