Quotes about scold, page 2
Sacrifice for a loaf of bread..... (...for all those who lost their life starving for food....)
My mom used to have me close and tight over her waist
and for the whole day we used to be under sun's face
I don't know why mom keep on knocking at car door's on the road
besides most of the people from inside stare at her and scold
few threw one or two small round shaped metals (coins) on the road
with a sign of relief mom grabs it without getting bored
Often she kisses me and wipes my sweat using her torn cloth
but she never care's for her sweat though she was burning hot
whenever someone grabs mom's hand with a cruel smile
I don know why she scold's them back and runs with tear filled eyes
she feeds me with a loaf of bread thinking am hungry whenever i cry
but in real I cry for her.. cos she always just drinks water and letting herself dry
At night I sleep with tears rolling down..thinking why she cares me much
for which her heart breathe says I am the only one she got this close and tight
when her fingers run on my back I can feel day by day its getting rough
her tenderness had gone cos of house works
making me stand before a broken mirror she used to say I am cute
when she hugs me I can feel she has gone too skinny and my heart goes to mute
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poem by Sebastine Humaemo
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To A Censor
Delay responsible? Why, then; my friend,
Impeach Delay and you will make an end.
Thrust vile Delay in jail and let it rot
For doing all the things that it should not.
Put not good-natured judges under bond,
But make Delay in damages respond.
Minos, Aeacus, Rhadamanthus, rolled
Into one pitiless, unsmiling scold
Unsparing censor, be your thongs uncurled
To 'lash the rascals naked through the world.'
The rascals? Nay, Rascality's the thing
Above whose back your knotted scourges sing.
_Your_ satire, truly, like a razor keen,
'Wounds with a touch that's neither felt nor seen;'
For naught that you assail with falchion free
Has either nerves to feel or eyes to see.
Against abstractions evermore you charge
You hack no helmet and you need no targe.
That wickedness is wrong and sin a vice,
That wrong's not right and foulness never nice,
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poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Sweet Little Rock n Roller
(chuck berry)
Nineteen years old and as sweet as she could be
All dressed up like a downtown christmas tree
Dancin and hummin a rock n roll melody
Shes the daughter of a well respected man
Who taught her how to jerk and understand
Then she became a rock n roll music fan
Sweet little rock n roller, sweet little rock n roller
Her daddy doesnt have to scold her
Her partner cant hardly hold her
Because she never gets any older
Sweet little rock n roller
Shoulda seen her eyes when the band began to play
And the famous singer sang and bowed away
When the stars were gone she screamed and yelled hurray
Ten thousand eyes were watchin them leave the floor
Five thousand tongues are screaming out more and more
About fifteen hundred waiting outside the door
Sweet little rock n roller, sweet little rock n roller
Her daddy doesnt have to scold her
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song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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Momma
Words and music by bob seger
I was the baby brother,
I was the quiet other,
And I remember mother so well.
I was the little stranger,
I never was in danger,
I could a had a manger, pray tell.
Oh, how she could control me,
When I was bad shed scold me,
Sometimes she wouldnt hold me,
And Id cry.
But momma she never told me a lie -
Momma she never told me a lie.
I used to stay out evenings,
Stay out too late some evenings,
And momma would be there seething,
Back home.
Momma, she sat and waited,
Sat in the hall and waited,
Now I know why she hated
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song performed by Bob Seger
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Little Rock & Roller
By: chuck berry as done by nazareth
Nineteeen years old and as sweet as she can be
Dressed up like a downtown christmas tree
Dancin and hummin a rock-roll melody
Shes the daughter of a well-respected man
Who taught her how to judge and understand
Soon she became a rock-roll music fan
Sweet little rock and roller, sweet little rock and roller
Papa dont have to scold her, says he cant hardly hold her
She never gets any older, sweet little rock and roller
Shouldve seen her eyes when the band began to play
Famous singers sang and barred away
Stars performed, she screamed and yelled hooray!
Ten thousand eyes were watching her leave the floor
Five thousand tongues were screaming out more! more!
About fifteen hundred waitin outside the door
Sweet little rock and roller
Sweet little rock and roller
Papa dont have to scold her, says he cant hardly hold her
She never gets any older, sweet little rock and roller
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song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
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Epistle To Earl Harcourt, On His Wishing Her To Spell Her Name With Of Catherine With A K.
AND can his antiquarian eyes,
My Anglo-Saxon C despise?
And does Lord Harcourt, day by day,
Regret th' extinct initial K?
And still, with ardour unabated,
Labour to get it reinstated?--
I know, my Lord, your generous passion
For ev'ry long-exploded fashion;
And own the Catherine you delight in,
Looks irresistibly inviting,
Appears to bear the stamp, and mark,
Of English, used in Noah's Ark;
'But all that glitters is not gold,'
Nor all things obsolete, are old.
Would you but take the pains to look
In Doctor Johnson's quarto book,
(As I did, wishing much to see
Th' aforesaid letter's pedigree),
Believe me, 't would a tale unfold,
Would make your Norman blood run cold.
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poem by Joanna Baillie
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A Confidant Without Knowing It; Or The Stratagem
NO master sage, nor orator I know,
Who can success, like gentle Cupid show;
His ways and arguments are pleasing smiles,
Engaging looks, soft tears, and winning wiles.
Wars in his empire will at times arise,
And, in the field, his standard meet the eyes;
Now stealing secretly, with skilful lure.
He penetrates to hearts supposed secure,
O'erleaps the ramparts that protect around,
And citadels reduces, most renowned.
I DARE engage, two fortresses besiege
Leave one to Mars, and t'other to this liege.
And though the god of war should numbers bring,
With all the arms that can his thunders fling,
Before the fort he'll vainly waste his time,
While Cupid, unattended, in shall climb,
Obtain possession perfectly at ease,
And grant conditions just as he shall please.
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poem by La Fontaine
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The Odyssey: Book 17
When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared,
Telemachus bound on his sandals and took a strong spear that suited
his hands, for he wanted to go into the city. "Old friend," said he to
the swineherd, "I will now go to the town and show myself to my
mother, for she will never leave off grieving till she has seen me. As
for this unfortunate stranger, take him to the town and let him beg
there of any one who will give him a drink and a piece of bread. I
have trouble enough of my own, and cannot be burdened with other
people. If this makes him angry so much the worse for him, but I
like to say what I mean."
Then Ulysses said, "Sir, I do not want to stay here; a beggar can
always do better in town than country, for any one who likes can
give him something. I am too old to care about remaining here at the
beck and call of a master. Therefore let this man do as you have
just told him, and take me to the town as soon as I have had a warm by
the fire, and the day has got a little heat in it. My clothes are
wretchedly thin, and this frosty morning I shall be perished with
cold, for you say the city is some way off."
On this Telemachus strode off through the yards, brooding his
revenge upon the When he reached home he stood his spear against a
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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Don Juan: Canto The Sixth
'There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which,--taken at the flood,'--you know the rest,
And most of us have found it now and then;
At least we think so, though but few have guess'd
The moment, till too late to come again.
But no doubt every thing is for the best-
Of which the surest sign is in the end:
When things are at the worst they sometimes mend.
There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads- God knows where:
Those navigators must be able seamen
Whose charts lay down its current to a hair;
Not all the reveries of Jacob Behmen
With its strange whirls and eddies can compare:
Men with their heads reflect on this and that-
But women with their hearts on heaven knows what!
And yet a headlong, headstrong, downright she,
Young, beautiful, and daring- who would risk
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Canto the Sixth
I
"There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, -- taken at the flood," -- you know the rest,
And most of us have found it now and then;
At least we think so, though but few have guess'd
The moment, till too late to come again.
But no doubt every thing is for the best --
Of which the surest sign is in the end:
When things are at the worst they sometimes mend.
II
There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads -- God knows where:
Those navigators must be able seamen
Whose charts lay down its current to a hair;
Not all the reveries of Jacob Behmen
With its strange whirls and eddies can compare:
Men with their heads reflect on this and that --
But women with their hearts on heaven knows what!
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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