He wears the rose Of youth upon him.
That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling Commodity, Commodity, the bias of the world.
My salad days, When I was green in judgment.
You draw me, you hard-hearted adamant;But yet you draw not iron, for my heartIs true as steel.
What's gone and what's past helpShould be past grief.
And to add greater honours to his ageThan man could give him, he died fearing God.
We beg delinquents for our life.
Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies.
Young men have a passion for regarding their elders as senile.
Lear: So young, and so untender? Cordelia: So young, my lord, and true.
And the sabbath rang slowly In the pebbles of the holy streams.
A Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy.
You are only young once, but you can stay immature indefinitely.
The bloom is gone, and with the bloom go I.
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