HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove Thou messenger of Spring Now Heaven repairs thy rural seat, And woods thy welcome ring. What time the daisy decks the green, Thy certain voice we hear Hast thou a star to guide thy path, Or mark the rolling year Delightful visitant with thee I hail the time of flowers, And hear the sound of music sweet From birds among the bowers. The schoolboy, wand'ring through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of Spring to hear And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fli'st thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another Spring to hail. Sweet bird thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No Winter in thy year O could I fly, I'd fly with thee We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual visit o'er the globe, Companions of the Spring.
Quotes about schoolboy (16 Quotes)
FREEDOM, n. Exemption from the stress of authority in a beggarly half dozen of restraint's infinite multitude of methods. A political condition that every nation supposes itself to enjoy in virtual monopoly. Liberty. The distinction between freedom and liberty is not accurately known naturalists have never been able to find a living specimen of either. Freedom, as every schoolboy knows, Once shrieked as Kosciusko fell On every wind, indeed, that blows I hear her yell. She screams whenever monarchs meet, And parliaments as well, To bind the chains about her feet And toll her knell. And when the sovereign people cast The votes they cannot spell, Upon the pestilential blast Her clamors swell. For all to whom the power's given To sway or to compel, Among themselves apportion Heaven And give her Hell. --Blary O'Gary.
Now I'm dead in the grave with my lips moving; And every schoolboy repeating my words by heart.
Every schoolboy hath that famous testament of Grunnius Corocotta Porcellus at his fingers' end.
It was the schoolboy who said, Faith is believing what you know ain't so.
Not the schoolboy heat, The blind hysterics of the Celt.
At seventeen, I knew the end of a dream... I would never be a schoolboy again.
Of an old tale which every schoolboy knows.
My feelings are those of a schoolboy getting in sight of the holidays. Or more seriously, my feelings are perhaps those of a matador who has decided not to enter the bull ring.
... He had by now divested himself of schoolboy attitudes. He was unburdened by the desire to be a martyr or a hero. Any thoughts in that direction, Belgica effectively had quashed. Heroism in the corrupt sense of the age almost by definition, meant wanton self-sacrifice and bungling. For neither had he any taste. He wanted rational attainment victory, but not at any price. No point upon the globe was worth the cost of a single life.
Don't hire a master to paint you a masterpiece and then assign a roomful of schoolboy artists to look over his shoulder and make suggestions.
The simplest schoolboy is now familiar with truths for which Archimedes would have sacrificed his life.
The schoolboy whips his taxed top the beardless youth manages his taxed horse with a taxed bridle on a taxed road and the dying Englishman, pouring his medicine, which has paid seven per cent, into a spoon that has paid fifteen per cent, flings himself back upon his chintz bed which has paid twenty-two per cent, and expires in the arms of an apothecary who has paid a license of a hundred pounds for the privilege of putting him to death.
The whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school.
Yeah. I mean, it just seemed to me that it was - I felt so helpless to this business of not having any papers. That seems like a throwback to a schoolboy.
One of my first jobs was at the Boston Globe. I worked in the sports department six months a year. When I was ready to graduate, the sports editor gave me a job as a schoolboy sports writer.