Quotes about beardless
Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 11
I asked one of the people of Baghdad what he thought of beardless youths. He replied: ‘There is no good in them for when one of them is yet delicate and wanted he is insolent; but when he becomes rough and is not wanted he is affable.’
When a beardless youth is beautiful and sweet
His speech is bitter, his temper hasty.
When his beard grows and he attains puberty
He associates with men and seeks affection.
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 9
WHILE these affairs in distant places pass’d,
The various Iris Juno sends with haste,
To find bold Turnus, who, with anxious thought,
The secret shade of his great grandsire sought.
Retir’d alone she found the daring man, 5
And op’d her rosy lips, and thus began:
“What none of all the gods could grant thy vows,
That, Turnus, this auspicious day bestows.
Æneas, gone to seek th’ Arcadian prince,
Has left the Trojan camp without defense; 10
And, short of succors there, employs his pains
In parts remote to raise the Tuscan swains.
Now snatch an hour that favors thy designs;
Unite thy forces, and attack their lines.”
This said, on equal wings she pois’d her weight, 15
And form’d a radiant rainbow in her flight.
The Daunian hero lifts his hands and eyes,
And thus invokes the goddess as she flies:
“Iris, the grace of heav’n, what pow’r divine
Has sent thee down, thro’ dusky clouds to shine? 20
[...] Read more
poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Ballad of the White Horse
DEDICATION
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night--
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
Where seven sunken Englands
Lie buried one by one,
Why should one idle spade, I wonder,
Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder
To smoke and choke the sun?
In cloud of clay so cast to heaven
What shape shall man discern?
These lords may light the mystery
Of mastery or victory,
And these ride high in history,
But these shall not return.
[...] Read more
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 10
THE GATES of heav’n unfold: Jove summons all
The gods to council in the common hall.
Sublimely seated, he surveys from far
The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war,
And all th’ inferior world. From first to last, 5
The sov’reign senate in degrees are plac’d.
Then thus th’ almighty sire began: “Ye gods,
Natives or denizens of blest abodes,
From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind,
This backward fate from what was first design’d? 10
Why this protracted war, when my commands
Pronounc’d a peace, and gave the Latian lands?
What fear or hope on either part divides
Our heav’ns, and arms our powers on diff’rent sides?
A lawful time of war at length will come, 15
(Nor need your haste anticipate the doom),
When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome,
Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains,
And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains.
Then is your time for faction and debate, 20
[...] Read more
poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A man, when he gets drunk, is lead by a beardless lad, tripping, knowing not where he steps, having his soul moist.
quote by Heraclitus
Added by Silvia Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
God, for example, appealed to me as a beardless man wearing a quilted silk cap; holiness was something burning, forbidding, something connected with fire while a day had the form of an oblong box.
quote by Abraham Cahan
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Insult or Compliment?
Thou art the merest popinjay.
A beardless boy not yet a man,
go to thou fool and go thy way.
Go quickly whilst thou still can.
Should my good husband take offence
then he would surely challenge thee.
I would not speak in thy defence
for thy pretensions annoy me.
I’m old enough to be thy dam
I don’t indulge in dalliance,
Methinks thy bravo is all sham.
Get hence, whilst thou still hath the chance.
The youth withdrew a chastened child.
When he had gone the lady smiled.
24-Dec-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Young England--What Is Then Become Of Old
YOUNG ENGLAND--what is then become of Old
Of dear Old England? Think they she is dead,
Dead to the very name? Presumption fed
On empty air! That name will keep its hold
In the true filial bosom's inmost fold
For ever.--The Spirit of Alfred, at the head
Of all who for her rights watched, toiled and bled,
Knows that this prophecy is not too bold.
What--how! shall she submit in will and deed
To Beardless Boys--an imitative race,
The 'servum pecus' of a Gallic breed?
Dear Mother! if thou 'must' thy steps retrace,
Go where at least meek Innocency dwells;
Let Babes and Sucklings be thy oracles.
poem by William Wordsworth
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Romance
'Talk of pluck!' pursued the Sailor,
Set at euchre on his elbow,
'I was on the wharf at Charleston,
Just ashore from off the runner.
'It was grey and dirty weather,
And I heard a drum go rolling,
Rub-a-dubbing in the distance,
Awful dour-like and defiant.
'In and out among the cotton,
Mud, and chains, and stores, and anchors,
Tramped a squad of battered scarecrows -
Poor old Dixie's bottom dollar!
'Some had shoes, but all had rifles,
Them that wasn't bald was beardless,
And the drum was rolling Dixie,
And they stepped to it like men, sir!
[...] Read more
poem by William Ernest Henley
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Eagle and the Dove
SHADE of Caractacus, if spirits love
The cause they fought for in their earthly home
To see the Eagle ruffled by the Dove
May soothe thy memory of the chains of Rome.
These children claim thee for their sire; the breath
Of thy renown, from Cambrian mountains, fans
A flame within them that despises death
And glorifies the truant youth of Vannes.
With thy own scorn of tyrants they advance,
But truth divine has sanctified their rage,
A silver cross enchased with flowers of France
Their badge, attests the holy fight they wage.
The shrill defiance of the young crusade
Their veteran foes mock as an idle noise;
But unto Faith and Loyalty comes aid
From Heaven, gigantic force to beardless boys.
poem by William Wordsworth
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
<< < Page 1 >