Nods from the Gilded pointers --
Nods from the Seconds slim --
Decades of Arrogance between
The Dial life --
And Him --
Nods from the Gilded pointers --
Nods from the Seconds slim --
Decades of Arrogance between
The Dial life --
And Him --
This age thinks better of a gilded fool Than of a threadbare saint in wisdom's school.
No gilded dome swells from the lowly roof to catch the morning or evening beam but the love and gratitude of united America settle upon it in one eternal sunshine. From beneath that humble roof went forth the intrepid and unselfish warrior, the magistrate who knew no glory but his country's good to that he returned, happiest when his work was done. There he lived in noble simplicity, there he died in glory and peace. While it stands, the latest generations of the grateful children of America will make this pilgrimage to it as to a shrine and when it shall fall, if fall it must, the memory and the name of Washington shall shed an eternal glory on the spot.
A best-seller is the gilded tomb of a mediocre talent.
Honeyed words like bees Gilded and sticky, with a little sting.
In outward show so splendid and so vain; 'tis but a gilded block without a brain.
Dust are our frames and gilded dust, our pride; Looks only for a moment whole and sound.
Stardom can be a gilded slavery.
I name no name, but hell's own flame
Illumes the lobby garish,
A gilded snare just off Times Square
For the maidens of the parish.
But you see, that's the gilded prison of fashion. We're riding in private jets, and meantime I was so incredibly, painfully sad and lonely.
Her beauty was sold for an old mans gold. She's a bird in a gilded cage.
For wheresoe'er I turn my ravish'd eyes, Gay gilded scenes and shining prospects rise, Poetic fields encompass me around, And still I seem to tread on classic ground.
Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.
Not marble nor the gilded monuments
Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time.
We are with you in this work. Workingmen must form a party of their own, take charge of the government, dispose gilded fraud, and put honest toil in power.
Here we see hypocrites, plodding forever around in their circle And now we saw a people decked with paint, Who trod their circling way with tear and groan And slow, slow steps, seeming subdued and faint They all wore cloaks, with deep hoods forward thrown Over their eyes, and shaped in fashion quite Like the great cowls the monks wear at Cologne Outwardly they were gilded dazzling bright, But all within was lead, and weighed thereby, King Frederick's copes would have seemed feather-light. O weary mantle for eternity Once more we turned to the left, and by their side Paced on, intent upon their mournful cry.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories